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'Being some Account of their Lives 
Compiled from the Letters of those who knew them 





[All Rights Reserved] 



With some diffidence I send 'out into the world this attempt- 
to tell once more the life-story of Lord Edward FitzGerald and 
Pamela his wife. I have not tried to give an exhaustive account 
of all that is known of them. As far as the chief actor is con- 
cerned, Thomas Moore's Life and Death of Lord Edicard Fitz- 
Gerald has so completely covered the ground that there is scarcely 
room for any further work on the same lines. So far as I know, the 
only existing material for a consecutive record of Lord Edward's 
career is contained in such of his own letters as were not de- 
stroyed during his lifetime, and the bulk of these were used by 
Moore. But along with the originals of these particular letters 
there are sundry other family letters and papers in the possession 
of Lord Edward's great-grandson, Sir Guy Campbell, his grand- 
daughter, the Hon. Mrs. Percy Wyn&nam, and, others of his 
descendants, which seem to me to confain -enough matter of 
general interest to justify their publication as a supplementary 

In the country for which he gave his life — the country in 
which another of his great-grandsons, Mr. George Wyndham, 
now fills the office of Chief Secretary — Lord Edward's name 
will always be one to conjure with. The winning charm of his 
personality, the generous unselfishness of his life, the tragedy of 
his early death, have made him beloved above all her other sons. 
And it is not difficult, even for those who have no racial or family 
reasons to prejudice them in his favour, to see in him the spirit 
of true patriotism. It is true that, driven to desperation by the 
cruel injustice with which the Ireland of his day was treated, he 
sought help for the rebel cause from the enemies of England. 
It is true that, owing to a conspiracy for which he was directly 
responsible, Ireland was rent by the horrors of civil war, and her 
green fields reddened by the blood of men of kindred races, shed 
by each other's hands. But, in his own time, even his political 
opponents recognised the purity and disinterested nature of his 
motives. And to-day we can go further than that. We can 
appreciate the necessity for his actions. We can see that the 



Irish Rebellion of '98 was inevitable — as inevitable and as salutary 
for England as the rebellion of Cromwell, or the revolt of the 
American Colonies. Lord Edward was one of the chief instru- 
ments appointed for its accomplishment, self-chosen only so far as 
any of us ever are self -chosen to carry out the purposes of destiny. 
If he was a traitor to his country, he was the most single-minded 
and loyal traitor that ever lived. That, at least, is the conclusion 
to which the correspondence which is set down in this book 
appears to me to point ; and the letters as a whole cannot fail, I 
think, to give a better and a truer understanding of his personal 
attitude towards his fellow-countrymen and the government of 
the King. 

A word as to the general character of these letters. Some of 
them may seem to those who have no particular interest in the 
FitzGerald family to be too intimate and occasionally too trivial 
for public consumption. But they are at all events human docu- 
ments, and, slight as is the nature of some of them, I have tried 
to select only those which go to show the difference in circum- 
stances and the similarity in nature between ourselves and these 
simple, warm-hearted folk, who are separated from our time by 
the dust and progress of the nineteenth century. Also, I have 
tried to make the picture an absolutely true one. I might, for 
instance, have suppressed a letter of Lady Sarah Napier's in 
which she speaks of Lord Edward and her husband as having 
been " drunk" I preferred to publish it for what seem to me 
obvious reasons. If its inclusion should appear superfluous or 
vexatious to any who have Napier or FitzGerald blood in their 
veins, I offer them very sincere apologies. But I do not honestly 
think that this is a probable contingency. Lord Edward and 
Colonel Napier were both my own kinsmen, and I yield to no 
one in my reverence for Lord Edward's name in particular, nor 
would I willingly set down one word that could by any possi- 
bility smirch his reputation. But I cannot conceive that either 
his friends or his critics could find in this matter any source of 
offence or any cause for ill-natured comment. On the contrary, 
I think it is obvious that both he and his uncle were far in 
advance of their time with regard to self-indulgence in this par- 
ticular direction. In this, as in other respects, Lord Edward was 
a sane and sober man, which is far more than can be said of most 
of his contemporaries. Never once in the examination of these 
letters have I been tempted to any sort of suppressio veri on his 
account. His private life was clear of any stain or reproach, and 
as unselfish as the whole of his public career. 

As I have judged it inadvisable to reprint his earlier letters, 
and have consequently refrained from giving a connected account 
of his whole life, it may be as well to give here a brief resume of 



its leading events. He was born in 1763, at Carton, the home 
of the FitzGeralds, and was therefore only thirty-five at the time 
of his death. When he was ten years old his father died, and 
his mother, the Duchess of Leinster, soon afterwards married Mr. 
Ogilvie, her sons' Scotch tutor, who took some pains to educate 
Lord Edward with a view to his entering the army. In 1779 the 
family returned from Aubigny, where they had been living, to 
England, and in the next year Lord Edward joined the 96th 
regiment in Ireland. Two years later he sailed with his regiment 
to America, where he became A.D.C. to Lord Rawdon, and served 
through the war " with no little reputation for personal courage, 
readiness of resource, and humane feelings." In 1783 he came 
back to Ireland and was returned as member for Athy, entering 
upon his new career with as much keenness as he had previously 
shown for soldiering, in spite of the disheartening effect upon him 
of the political corruption of the day and the iniquitous penal 
laws against the Roman Catholics. Six years later he went 
again to America, and after a long and adventurous journey 
across country to Quebec, was adopted by the Bear Tribe of Red 
Indians and made one of their chiefs at the age of twenty-six. 
On his return home he was offered by Pitt the command of an 
expedition against Cadiz, which he refused upon being once more 
nominated a member of Parliament by his brother the Duke. 
With the resumption of his parliamentary duties the first part of 
his public life came to a close. 

In 1792 he went to Paris, where he became infected with the 
spirit of the revolution, and publicly renounced his title, for 
which offence he was dismissed the British Army. During the 
same visit he made the acquaintance of Madame de Genlis and 
his future wife, whom he married at Tournay in less than a 
month. In '93 he made a violent speech against the Lord Lieu- 
tenant and the Castle party generally, and in the following year 
first incurred the suspicions of Government, though it was not 
till '96 that he and his friend Arthur O'Connor joined the United 
Irishmen. He was at once sent to France to negotiate with 
General Hoche for a French invasion of Ireland, and on December 
the 15th the French Fleet set sail. After that, till 1798, he was 
mainly occupied in secretly organising the insurrection to which 
he was now pledged, and in that year, as head of the Military Com- 
mittee, he had under his command no less than 300,000 men. 
Before, however, any active steps of rebellion had been taken, a 
meeting of the rebel leaders was betrayed by an informer, and 
Lord Edward, who escaped arrest, went into hiding in Dublin, 
though he was privately informed that the Government would 
place no obstacles in the way of his leaving the country. He chose, 
however, to continue to direct the movements, and finally, after a 



price of .£1000 had been set on his head, his hiding-place was 
revealed by another informer, and he was taken prisoner, after a 
prolonged struggle, in the course of which he fatally wounded 
one of his captors. A few days afterwards he died in prison of 
his wounds ; his estates were confiscated, a bill of attainder was 
passed against him, and his wife was ordered to leave the 

I have spoken of one of the reasons by which I have been 
induced to write this book. A further motive exists in the shape 
of my regard for the memory of Lord Edward's wife. She has 
been so often the object of ill-natured comment on account of 
supposed irregularities in her conduct, besides being a centre of 
interest owing to her reputed relationship to the Due d'Orleans 
and Madame de Genlis, that I wished, as far as was possible, to 
clear up once for all the two questions which have been connected 
with her name. The problem of her birth remains perhaps un- 
solved ; but as far as her personal character is concerned, her own 
letters and those of her husband's family reveal her as a woman 
of a singularly sweet and lovable and innocent nature, and it is 
my hope that the voice of calumny may now cease its attempts 
to defame her memory. She was the idol of her husband while 
he lived, and of her children after his death. By her numerous 
descendants she is regarded with scarcely less love and reverence 
than Lord Edward himself, and, quite apart from their natural 
feelings, it is difficult to see what good purpose can be served by 
these posthumous attacks upon her fair fame. It has been my 
endeavour to show that they are without any real foundation ; 
and if I have succeeded in that object, I shall feel that I have 
not written in vain. To all her descendants, especially to her 
surviving grandchildren, in whom I seem to see reflected the 
strong sense of humour and keen appreciation of all that is 
beautiful in nature and life which she shared with Lord Edward, 
I offer this book as an attempt to do honour to the names of 
Edward and Pamela FitzGerald. 

To many of these descendants my thanks are due for the help 
which they have given me, particularly to Sir Guy Campbell, 
Mrs. Percy Wyndham, Mrs. Selby-Smyth, and the Eev. Colin 
Campbell, who have placed at my disposal the papers and pictures 
in their possession, and also, amongst others, to Sir Henry Bun- 
bury, Mrs. John Napier, Mrs. James Swinton, and Lord Frederick 
and Lord Walter FitzGerald. 

Gerald Campbell. 

September, 1904. 


cnAP. p ^ge 
L "the good family" ..... 1 

II. MOTHER A~ST> SON . . . . . .17 


V. THE COMING OF PAMELA . . . . .51 




IX. THE REAL PAMELA . . . . . .95 



xii. the last days . . . . . .139 

xiii. imprisonment and death .... 146 

xiv. the situation reviewed .... 183 
xv. lady edward in hamburgh . . . .198 

xvi. the question of parentage . . . .214 

xvii. lady edward's critics ..... 222 


INDEX 255 



lady edward fitzgerald .... Frontispiece 

From the Picture by Romney in the possession of 
Lieut. -Col. Sir Guy Campbell. Bart. 

lord edward fitzgerald .... Facing page 28 

From a Water-Colour Drawing in the possession of 
the Rev. Colin Campbell. 


From the Picture by Hamilton in the possession of 
Lieut. -Col. Sir Guy Campbell, Bart. 


From a Miniature by lfieris in the possession of 
the Hon. Mrs. Percy Wyndham. 


PAMELA . . . . . „ „ 150 

From a Picture in the possession of Mrs. Guy Selby- 

MADAME DE GENLIS . . . . „ „ 214 

From a Miniature in the possession of Lieut. -Col. 
Sir Guy Campbell, Bart. 


From a Miniature in the possession of Lieut. -Col. 
Sir Guy Campbell, Bart. 


From a Picture in the possession of Lieut. -Col. Sir 
Guy Campbell, Bart. 




A box of old letters — torn and worn with much 
travel and much reading, grey with the dust of a 
hundred years. The hands that penned them, 
white and slender, brown and strong, the hearts 
that hungered for their coming, the eyes that grew 
sad or merry as they read, have been claimed by 
death. But the letters themselves are alive, — alive 
with the tears that stained the pages and dimmed 
the eyes, alive with the laughter and the passion 
and the heartaches of the men and women by whom 
they were written and read. More vivid and more 
faithful than any painted picture, they show the 
kind of men and women that the writers were. 

These letters are so frank, so intimate, so per- 
sonal, that it seems almost sacrilege to read them. 
Births, marriages, deaths, — these after all are the 
sum of human life. Generation follows generation, 
and still we are born and die, still we take or are 
given in marriage. But the commonest things are 
the most sacred, and to read these outspoken 

2 t Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

messages from heart to heart on the common things 
of life is to tread on holy ground. 

They cover in all a period of about sixty years — 
from 1770 to 1831. Some years are represented 
only by single letters ; in others the correspondence 
is so large, that taken letter by letter and day by 
day, they would run some danger of leaving upon 
the mind a blurred confusion of ideas. At these 
times (which coincide with the closing scenes of 
Lord Edward's life) we shall look, like travellers 
along a mountain-pass, now one side, now on 
another, and sometimes retracing our steps view 
the same scenes once more from changed stand- 
points, and through the eyes of different guides. 
The object of the earlier part of this book is to give 
a picture of the home life of Lord Edward's family — 
and incidental portraits of the writers of the letters. 
No attempt has been made to give a connected 
account of the oft-told story of his life. With as 
little comment as possible the letters have been left 
to show how he was regarded by those who knew 
and loved him the best, and what they at the time 
thought of events which have passed into the 
domain of history. 

The writers of the letters are few in number : 
those who write at all often can be counted on the 
fingers of one hand. The most vigorous, if not the 
most interesting, correspondent, is the Duchess of 
Leinster, the mother of nineteen children besides 
Lord Edward — seventeen FitzGeralds and two 
Ogilvies. Her second husband, generally called 
Ogilvie or " Mr. 0." in the letters, was, as may be 

" The Good Family" 


imagined from his boldness in undertaking so for- 
midable an adventure, a man of strong and deter- 
mined character. But the affection which existed 
between him and his adopted children was always 
real enough to dispel any occasional feelings of 
resentment at his decided and peremptory view of 
his paternal duties. And those qualities that he 
lacked were supplied by the strong good sense of 
the Duchess. For she was a very wise woman, 
besides being a loving and tender mother. 

At first, indeed, the marriage of the Duchess to 
the uncouth Scotch tutor provoked only surprise 
and indignation in the minds of her relations. But 
as time went on it was found that in spite of certain 
obvious drawbacks, Mr. Ogilvie had many good 
points to recommend him ; and on the whole the 
action of the Duchess was justified by results. Lord 
Edward certainly felt much respect and affection for 
his stepfather ; and his elder daughter, Pamela Lady 
Campbell, though like everyone else she professed 
herself unable to account for the strange infatuation 
of the Duchess, gives a glimpse of what was probably 
its true reason at the close of a brief account of Mr. 
Ogilvie's first arrival at Leinster House. 

" Lord Le Cale," she writes, " or rather Lord 
Charles, having bad health, it was settled to get a 
tutor for the boys, and to establish them and the 
younger children at Frescati ; Lord Charles, Lord 
Henry, Lord Edward, Lord Robert, and Lord Gerald 
w r ere the boys, Lady Sophia and Lady Lucy the two 
youngest under a French Bonne ; A Scotchman who 
kept a school in Cole's Lane was recommended for the 

4 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

education of the Boys. He was a good classical 
scholar, and first rate (in those days) mathematician, 
and had studied in Edinburgh, and this was Mr. 
Ogilvie. Lady Leitrim was one day spending the 
evening at Leinster House with the Duchess when 
the Groom of the Chamber came in to tell her Grace 
that Mr. Ogilvie the new Tutor was come. 
' Show him to his room/ 

' Please Your Grace, is he to have wax candles or 
tallow ? ' 

Upon which the Duchess turned to Lady Leitrim 
and said in French : 

' Quen pensez-vous ? ' 

' Oh, moulds will do, till we see a little/ 

Such was the introduction of Mr. Ogilvie into 
the family. 

He was extremely good-natured to the sick 
suffering children, — that was one of the means by 
which he at first ingratiated himself with the 
Duchess. Mabel, the youngest, was a very lovely 
child, a great sufferer, and Mr. Ogilvie showed her 
great care and tenderness till she died. Sophia too 
had bad health, and was ordered to have her head 
shaved ; this Mr. Ogilvie did himself, lest it should 
be roughly done by the servants." 

To the same generation of writers as the Duchess 
of Leinster belong her two sisters, Lady Sarah Napier 
and Lady Louisa Conolly, and her brother the Duke 
of Richmond. Lady Sarah Napier (who so nearly 
became the Queen of George m.) was as clever as 
she was beautiful. All her woman's sympathies 
were on the side of the Irish in the troublous times 

"The Good Family" 


before and after '98. But she never allowed her 
enthusiasm for the cause of the distressful country 
to blind her to its real interests, and I believe that, 
given a free hand, a combination of Lady Sarah 
Napier, Lord Fitzwilliam, and Lord Moira would 
have settled the Irish Question without a tithe of the 
pother by which the Eebellion and the Union were 
attended. Also with all her uncommon sense on 
matters of public import, she never ceased to be first 
and foremost a good mother, with ideas on the 
training of children far in advance of her times. 

Lady Louisa Conolly was of a different stamp, 
with, as Lady Sarah thought, too great a readiness 
to turn the other cheek to the smiter, being gentle 
and timid almost to a fault, and yet possessed of a 
reserve fund of brave resourcefulness which stood 
her in good stead at the time- when the tragedy of 
Lord Edwards life reached its climax. The two 
sisters were both married to public servants, Colonel 
Napier being in command of English troops, while 
Mr. Conolly was a member of Parliament, in fairly 
close connection with the Castle ; so that they were, 
as in duty bound, actively engaged in helping, first 
to prevent and then to suppress the Rebellion, — and 
yet with leanings to the other side which were not 
only or altogether due to their affection for their 
nephew by marriage. 

Naturally — almost inevitably — there was an 
inner ring of the Duchess of Leinster's children, 
formed of those who from a similarity of ideas and 
ideals, as well as from the circumstances of their 
lives, were in closer sympathy with each other and 

6 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

with their mother than the rest. Her eldest son the 
Duke, a quiet, indolent, affectionate man, scarcely 
belonged to this ring, though its members, in 
common with all the others, loved him and looked 
up to him. If it is sometimes not easy to under- 
stand the principles which guided him in steering 
his political course, there is no doubt that it was 
rendered exceedingly difficult by the decided line 
taken by his brother Lord Edward, of whom he was 
very fond. His brotherly sympathy added to his 
own Whig proclivities led to his being quite unjustly 
looked upon as an active promoter of the most open 
Eebellion. The ring itself, if I may apply that 
unpleasant term to such pleasant people, consisted of 
the Duchess, Lord Edward and his wife, his brother 
Henry, and his sisters Lucy, Sophia, and Charlotte, 
besides Mr. Ogilvie's two daughters, Mimi and Cissy. 

Lady Lucy, who afterwards married Admiral 
Sir Thomas Foley, was just Lord Edward dressed in 
woman's clothes. She was to the full as " patriotic " 
as her brother, perhaps even more so — for she loved 
the cause because he loved it, whom she loved above 
all things : she was possessed like him of a strong 
sense of humour, so that she shared with him the 
family epithet " comical " ; she had a warm, loving, 
susceptible Irish heart, and, in short, both in charac- 
ter and aims was as like him as possible. 

Lady Sophia, on the other hand, was the sort of 
person that nowadays would be called "Dear old 
Sophia." " Silk and steel " was one of Lord Edward's 
pet names for her, and " Father Confessor" another. 
And Father Confessor she was to all of them. Com- 

"The Good Family" 


paratively early in her life, she decided to leave the 
rest, and live quietly by herself at Thames Ditton. 
But though she was thus of her own will separated 
from them, they all came often to her confessional, 
either in person or by letter. She had a real passion 
for solitude, and a dislike for the gaieties of the 
town ; did not, in fact, feel very much at her ease 
in crowded drawing-rooms. Like many people who 
live much alone, she was inclined to be faddy about 
her health ; but this was her only failing, and she 
kept it very much to herself and her journals. She 
was sensibly good to the poor ; and had a great love 
for children, which from the time of Lord Edward's 
death spent itself on his youngest child Lucy, and 
afterwards on his other daughter Pamela as well. 
How warmly her love was returned may be seen 
from the following statement of Lady Campbell's 
which I quote here, although part of it anticipates 
the course of events, for the pretty picture which it 
gives of Lady Sophia. 

"I was born," says Lord Edward's daughter, "a 
week after my Mother landed, and christened, my 
Godmothers being Mde. de Genlis and Mrs. Mathies- 
sen, my Godfather General Valence, whose christian 
name was Adelaide, so I had plenty of names, — 
Felicite Henriette, Adelaide, Pamela. We returned 
to England when I was six months old, and I was 
brought to Great Shame when compared to my 
Brother Edward, who was living with Grandmama 
Leinster ; he was two years old, fat, fair, and bloom- 
ing, and I was sallow and small, with dark eyes 
like an unfledged bird ; and the comparisons were 

8 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

so mortifying that Mama cried, and my Father carried 
me off in his arms to the nursery highly affronted. 

My Father had promised Grandmama that if his 
first child was a son, he would give it up to her 
that she might have another Eddy ; so when he 
was a year old he was sent off with a nurse to 
England, much to poor Mama's despair and grief at 
parting with him. 

Such arrangements are not wise, and seldom 
answer ; however, it ended in my being perhaps 
more prized by my Father and Mother at home, 
the short time there was a Home. 

When poor little Edward and the Irish nurse 
arrived, it appeared the Child had a rash from 
teething, and it was thought it might be catching, 
and so instead of being joyfully received, the family 
sent him and his nurse off to a small lodging in the 
neighbourhood. But dear Aunt Sophia, then show- 
ing the dawn of that devotion to my Father which 
never, never afterwards fell short to the time of 
his death and beyond death, used to spend the 
whole morning with the child at the lodging to see 
after him and amuse him, and then wash herself 
in vinegar and water when she returned home. 

My Father had the discernment to appreciate 
Aunt Sophia's sense and good qualities, and was 
very fond of her ; for someone taxing him with 
loving his half sisters the Ogilvies best, he said : 

6 You are quite mistaken. I love Sophy, and 
there is more good in her little finger than in all of 
them put together ! ' 

And indeed she was quite and entirely devoted 

"The Good Family" 


to him, and proved it. She had had wretched 
suffering health in her childhood, which had thrown 
her back in her education. She learnt very slowly, 
and showed a curious sort of somnambulism. The 
days when she failed in mastering her lessons, her 
governess observed her restless at night, talking 
often and muttering. They slept next the school- 
room ; and at last they watched her, and observed 
that she got up, walked into the schoolroom, took 
down her books from the shelf, found her place, read 
over the lessons three or four times, and then crept 
back to her bed. The next morning she always 
knew the lessons perfectly, and was quite unconscious 
of what had passed. This used to occur mostly when 
she had been particularly slow and had been found 
fault with, and had cried. 

She w r as a small, fat, fair woman, very plain, 
but with a sweet countenance, dull and silent rather ; 
fond of reading, work, and gardening, excellent 
health as she grew up, an immense walker, — we 
used to walk four or five miles every day, — very 
affectionate and sensitive, rather jealous, which made 
her a little touchy ; and yet to a certain degree she 
was justified, for she was not a favourite with her 
mother, and not justly treated among them. She 
made up her mind to make a home of her own in 
the country when she was about two and thirty, 
and settled near Boyle Farm at a place called the 
Rushit. She then bought Thames Ditton ; being 
near Lord Henry was a protection, and ensured her 
not feeling solitary. In this she acted wisely, as 
she always did; she had the clearest, soundest judg- 

10 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

ment I ever met with. I never knew a person who 
could give better advice in a difficult line of conduct ; 
she was essentially a prudent woman, she had what 
the French call Vesprit de conduite. She was the 
reverse of Charles the 2nd, — she perhaps never said 
a witty thing, but she certainly never did a foolish 
one. When all the '98 troubles came, she took 
my sister Lucy and her nurse at the time when my 
Mother went to Mde. de Genlis at Hamburg, and 
she adopted her and devoted herself to Lucy and to 
her Child after her till her death ; she was so steadfast 
in her affections ! She reaped where she had sown, 
for she had a happy, useful Life, chequered with the 
sorrows flesh is heir to ; but she never lacked an 
object. She loved much, and she was much loved. 

She is buried at Ditton, near the school door, by 
the side of the child she adopted, and which she had 
laid there in 1826." 

Close to Lady Sophia's cottage at Thames 
Ditton lived her brother Henry, in the house which 
is still called Boyle Farm. Here the members of 
the family used often to meet, for their affection for 
its owner was only less than that which bound them 
to their chief idol. He was always Lord Edward's 
own particular brother, and in the " fatal year " his 
frantic efforts to help him in his last hours were 
pathetic to the last degree, and endeared him even 
to those who were politically opposed to him. 

These then are, with two exceptions, the chief 
writers and characters of the letters. 

Lord Edward FitzGerald, the central figure, the 
something more than hero and higher than patriot, 

" The Good Family " 


to whom they all more or less refer, was perhaps, as 
Mr. Lecky describes him, a man of very transparent 
character, — was certainly a man whom to know, 
almost to see, was to love. Thomas Moore, his 
biographer, once ran after him in the street, to catch 
a glimpse of the man whose name meant to him, as 
he tells us, all that was patriotic, noble, and chival- 
rous. In his early life, which was chiefly spent in 
soldiering in America, and in adventurous journeys 
through wild forests and on dangerous rivers, where 
scarcely a white man had been before him, everyone 
with whom he came in contact, men and women, 
old and young, noble and peasant, pale-face and red- 
skin, General and private soldier, were helplessly 
enthralled by the magic of his winning personality. 
" I never knew so loveable a person," said a brother 
officer ; "and every man in the army, from the 
General to the Drummer, would cheer the expres- 
sion." " The only really honest officer I ever knew 
in the army," said an ex-sergeant-major (better 
known as William Cobbett). He was adopted by 
the native Indians, and made chief of one of their 
tribes. " I, David Hill, Chief of the Six nations, 
give the name of Eghnidal to my friend Lord Edward 
Fitzgerald, for which I hope he will remember me 
as long as he lives." " The Service," said Charles 
Fox, " did not possess a more zealous, meritorious, or 
promising member." 

These are, it is true, merely expressions of esteem, 
of admiration for an efficient young officer. But 
underlying them is the love which wherever he went 
he inspired by the love that he gave, the strongest 

12 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

proof of which is to be found in his letters to his 
mother. The earliest series of these, written chiefly 
when he was in America, I do not propose to reprint 
here. Yet one short extract I may perhaps be allowed, 
to give those who have not read Mr. Moore's book an 
idea of their general tone. " You cannot think," he 
wrote to her on one occasion, " how I feel to want 
you here. I dined and slept at Frescati " (the 
Duchess's country house near Dublin) " the other 
day, Ogilvie and I tete-a-tete. We talked a great 
deal of you. Though the place makes me melancholy, 
yet it gives me pleasant feelings. To be sure, the 
going to bed without wishing you good-night ; the 
coming down in a morning, and not seeing you ; 
the sauntering about in the fine sunshine, looking 
at your flowers and shrubs, without you to lean 
upon one, was all very bad indeed. In settling my 
journey there, I determined to see you in my way, — 
supposing you w T ere even a thousand miles out of 
it, — and now, coolly, if I can afford it, I certainly 
will." Just one more. " We shall talk a great deal 
of you. I assure you, I miss you in Ireland very, 
very much. I am not half so merry as I should be 
if you were here. I get tired of everything, and 
want to have you to go and talk to. You are, after 
all, what I love best in the world. I always return 
to you, and find it is the only love I do not deceive 
myself in. I love you more than I think I do, — 
but I will not give way to such thoughts, for it 
always makes me grave. I really made myself 
miserable for two days since I left you by this 
sort of reflections ; and in thinking over with myself 

"The Good Family" 


what misfortunes I could bear, I found there was 
one I could not : — but God bless you." 

Of his wife, who has always remained " Lady 
Edward " to her descendants, though to the rest of 
the world she is " Pamela," so that Pamela is almost 
a synonym for hapless misfortune, I do not now 
wish to speak. For the present it will be enough to 
consider Lord Edward himself in his relations with 
his family. If his friends and acquaintances loved 
him, his family adored him, with an adoration so 
deep and passionate that it could not be satisfied 
even by the warm appreciation of the book to which 
we owe most of our knowledge of his character and 

" You will no doubt have heard " (writes Lady Lucy 
to her friend Lady Bute, in the last letter of the whole 
series, dated 1831) " that my poor sister Pamela is no 
more ! I had my pen in my hand to write to you at 
the time (last Nov.), and then something prevented me, 
ill-health perhaps ; but it was fated that even to her 
death that poor soul should be the subject of ill-natured 
remark ; and this added a fresh pang to the many that I 
have felt for Her ! Poor Pamela, she was better after all 
than the most of her accusers : and she is gone to that 
place where the truth of hearts is revealed, and where all 
deceit is for ever swept away. She died of an inflammation 
of the Lungs, and at her earnest request went through all 
the solemn and heart-searching duties which the Catholic 
Religion imposes on the dying: which she met with 
sincerity and piety the most edifying. Such was the report 
of the clergyman that attended Her. On her being taken 
ill (she had only lately arrived in Paris), she sent to my 
niece, Lady Isabella de Chabot, to enquire for me : Isabella 

14 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

immediately went to Her, and told Her that I was in 
England. Madame Adelaide (d'Orleans) did not see her. 

While on this subject did you read Mr. Moore's Memoir 
of my loved Edward ? If you did, you will have thought it 
strange perhaps to see it dedicated to Mrs. Beauclerck. It 
was all her plan, arranged with Mr. Moore. They let me 
know of it when partly completed in case I had anything to 
communicate. Dear Lady Bute, you who know the depth 
of affection with which his memory is engraven on my 
heart ! you can best judge how such a message must have 
struck me. I returned for answer I had nothing to say. 
A thousand motives made this intended publication by Mr. 
Moore appear to me utterly improper. I will own to you 
that the one which the most displeased me, was the trifling, 
if I can use the expression, with his memory, which so long 
had lain enshrined and sacred in the grateful breasts of the 
Irish people ! to have it brought out from thence and his 
glorious name made the subject of English investigation ! to 
serve Party purposes — for when were Englishmen ever just 
judges of Irish character ? — brought out if I may so express 
myself to embellish the Whig Party with some sign of his 
genuine Irish Patriotism, from which degrading ordeal, if it 
has escaped, it has been owing to its bringing no new light 
on the transactions. Mr. Moore was in compleat ignorance 
of my Brother's views, and of His opinions, Plans, and 
actions, beyond what the newspapers of that day could 
furnish him with ; and thus the delineation of his character 
as enlightened Statesman and Heroic Patriot is entirely 
missing in the publication: no justice is done to Him, 
although I grant to Mr. Moore all the wish to do Him 
justice. Mr. Moore had not the means, ought not to have 
them, could not have them ; He should have felt that the 
task belonged not to Him, and that Mrs. Beauclerck furnish- 
ing him with Family correspondence could only serve to 
open afresh the wounds of hearts yet bleeding for His fate 
with warmly sensitive recollections of that tender and 

"The Good Family" 


confiding nature, which, making Him the object almost of 
the adoration of His Family ! yet was not the light in which 
it was doing his subject justice to represent to the World a 
man of the strongest and most determined stamp of mind 
this or any age has borne. 

There are men in Ireland, men only Irish, to whom it 
belong'd to tell His story, if ever Ireland should be what 
my Brother meant it to be. There may yet be those who 
remember His great powers of mind, His comprehensive 
grasp of the subject He examined, and that intuitive insight 
into the depths of other men's intentions where most con- 
cealed, — all these qualities that made Him so eminently fit 
for the management of Public affairs, and the prudence 
which formed so marked a part of His conduct as never to 
allow Him to overlook the danger which threatened others, 
altho' His courage disregarded all danger to Himself. Such 
Persons might have remembered that there was no one who 
knew Edward well who would attempt to impose upon Him 
in any way. All justice, such He was for His country ! 
Mr. Moore attempted to pourtray His heart, and to do so 
has brought on the Scene the Boyish fancies of his earliest 
youth. True, he was in them sincere, for when was He 
not sincere in His professions ? It was a saying of his, ' Let 
me first esteem a character as I could esteem them, and 
then only I should love as I could love.' To what extent 
that could be was not to be known to Himself till His latter 
years. (He was one and thirty before He discovered what 
He ever after called the twin of His soul.) When at the 
time when He was self-elected to free His country or die 
for Her, He met a soul, ' twin to His own ' was His expres- 
sion, because each breathed and loved alike, and their object 
Ireland ! Ireland, where each had first drawn breath, — 
Ireland, more great in her misfortunes, in Her wrongs, than 
the most favoured Country of the Earth, — Ireland, so true 
to God, to the early unchanged faith of the gospel, — Ireland, 
whom neither falsehood could entice nor interest bribe to 


Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

apostacy, suffering through successive ages from the oppres- 
sion of a Nation inferior to Herself in all but in some of the 
adventitious circumstances of fortune. It was the heart 
that felt all this as He himself did, and would have preferr'd 
death with the chance of redeeming these wrongs to a life 
of ease and security without that hope, — it was that person 
who could have told how Ed. once loved." 

This "twin soul" was without doubt Arthur 
O'Connor. Before '93 (the year of Lord Edward's 
thirty-first birthday) there is no mention of him in 
any of the letters ; but three years later, when they 
together joined the United Irishmen, they were close 
friends, and together with Lady Edward and Lady 
Lucy formed a partie carree of Patriots, which Lady 
Edward called ce cher bien-aime aimable Quoituor. 
Naturally, Lady Lucy would have wished that he 
should write her brother's life rather than Moore, 
who had no personal acquaintance with Lord Edward. 
But since the few who knew did not write, it was 
fortunate that the task of speculation as to the nature 
of his political aims and ideals fell into the hands of 
so just and so sympathetic a historian as Thomas 



In order to arrive at the fresh points of view pre- 
sented by certain of these letters, it is necessary to 
traverse by the way some of the old and familiar 
ground. Over these well-worn tracks I shall pass 
as quickly as is compatible with giving a connected 
understanding of the whole subject to those who may 
be unacquainted with more than the main facts of 
Lord Edward's career. There are two reasons which 
make this course particularly suitable with regard to 
the first half of his life, — first, the very sufficient one 
that these letters add but little to what is already 
known ; and, secondly, the conviction that, interest- 
ing as is the account given by Moore of these early 
days, they were comparatively unimportant. The 
three salient facts which they present are — his love 
for his mother, the influence of the newborn spirit 
of American independence on his subsequent actions, 
and his boyish affaires-de-cceur. Of the first I 
have already spoken : it pervades his every letter, 
and the whole of his life, and needs no further 
accentuation. The same may be said of his 
Canadian experiences. No doubt some of his views 
on the subject of liberty were inspired by his two 


18 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

visits to America. But for all practical purposes he 
was a child of the French Eevolution. It would be 
absurd to compare the indignities which America 
had suffered at the hands of the mother country with 
the blind injustice which caused the Irish Rebellion. 
In France he found a closer parallel to the wrongs 
under which he fretted ; it was from France that 
almost simultaneously he took his example and his 
wife. The seed fell perhaps from an American plant, 
but it was nourished by the suns and rains of 

There remain " the boyish fancies of his earliest 
youth," on which unnecessary stress has been laid 
by various writers from Moore downwards. In 
talking of them there seems to have been a sort of 
general agreement that they call for an apologetic 
attitude on the part of his biographers, — an idea which 
probably took its rise from the mysterious way in 
which Moore alluded to one of the objects of his 

youthful affection as a certain G . There is no 

reason whatever for this mystery or this apologetic 

tone. G was Lord Edward's cousin, Miss 

Georgina Lennox, whose father afterwards suc- 
ceeded his brother as Duke of Richmond. The 
Lennoxes, like the FitzGerald s, were a large family, 
and the cousins used often to live and play together 
like brothers and sisters. It was natural enough 
that one or two of them should imagine that they 
were in love with each other, and Lord Edward was 
not the only FitzGerald boy who lost his heart to 
one of his Lennox cousins. Lord Charles made the 
same natural mistake of attributing the friendly 

Mother and Son 


interest which he received to a warmer feeling than 
mere cousinly affection. Lord Edward proposed to 
his cousin in October 1786, much to her surprise, 
and received his dismissal, not, as will be seen from 
the following letter from one of her sisters to Lady- 
Sophia, without genuine regret on her part. " I 
have had," says her sister, " a great deal of conversa- 
tion with G., who is quite composed now, and only was 
miserable at the fear of all this having put a stop to 
the pleasant footing we had been on together, as, 
if it had been anybody we all liked less, she would 
have treated it quite otherwise, and now she feels 
vex'd at it making any difference from the great 
regard she, as well as the rest of us have for dear 
Lord Edward. But I have done all I can to per- 
suade her it will wear off, which I hope sincerely it 
will ; and she seems to have great pleasure at its 
being so." 

In this letter, as well as in one from Lord George 
Lennox to Lord Edward, it is curious to observe the 
quaint formality of address which obtained between 
these two families, considering how closely they were 
connected. "My Dear Lord," he begins — "Your 
letter was only delivered to me just as I was getting 
down to dinner, and not then knowing of Lord 
Henry's leaving us this evening, I put off the oppor- 
tunity of answering it by him till the one which 
I understand offers of Lady Charlotte's going to- 
morrow. I beg you to believe that the very un- 
settled situation my sister 1 seems to have been in 
ever since her arrival in England, added to the 

1 The Duchess of Leinster. 

20 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

uncertain state of your own motions also in conse- 
quence of Hers, made your setting out this morning 
so unexpected to me that you will, I trust, look on 
it as the cause of my not having been in the way 
to take leave of you. However, all things con- 
sidered, we maybe have neither of us any reason 
to regret it, as it has saved an awkward adieu after 
the result of your conversation with my daughter, to 
whom I have on this occasion, as I have always 
with her sisters, left every matter of the sort to be 
determined by themselves. With respect, therefore, 
to the manner of your proposal, it was not so material 
to me from the perfect security I always feel in every 
part of any of my daughters' conduct, and as to the 
propriety of yours, which you are so good as to say 
you hope I approve of, it is now needless to enter 
into, since you did not think it necessary to consult 
me on it before. But nevertheless, my Dear Lord, 
what has passed shall not make any alteration in 
those sentiments I have already for you. I am with 
great truth, my Dear Lord, Your sincerely affec- 
tionate Uncle, Geo. Hen. Lennox." 

So Lord Edward received his conge, and during the 
next three years his letters to his mother, from Ire- 
land, from Spain, and from America, were all " Songs 
in Absence," containing constant allusions to his love 
for his cousin, and his hopes that his suit might after 
all have a happy end. A boyish attachment which 
lasted for three years without any encouragement, 
far from calling for an apology, is evidence of a con- 
stancy of affection which was no commoner in those 
days than it is in these. The story may be finished 

Mother and Son 


by his daughter, Lady Campbell : "On his return 
from America," she says, " my father found Georgina 
Lennox, to whom he had been attached for three 
years, married to Lord Bathurst : he arrived un- 
expectedly in Harley Street in the evening, when 
the Duchess was giving the wedding dinner to Lady 
Bathurst after the marriage, so Aunt Sophia hurried 
out of the dining-room and took him upstairs to 
avoid his rushing into the room and causing an 
awkward meeting. This disappointment threw him 
into politics more entirely for some time. Then he 
went to Paris and that confirmed his opinions, as 
at that time the Revolution had not betrayed any 
of the darker shades of licentious republicanism : it 
seemed all fair liberty." 

This visit to Paris in 1792 was for Lord Edward 
the dividing of the ways, the beginning of the end. 
Before it he had been a soldier forced into politics 
against his will ; afterwards he was heart and soul 
a politician. Even before he went to France he had 
been strongly affected by the prevailing spirit of the 

" In the first place," writes his mother, " Eddy dines with 
us every day, and is quite among us in his old way, and 
what is best of all in charming spirits ; he has moments, 
one sees, but he struggles with it, and it is soon over. He 
is mad about the French affairs, — the levelling principle, — 
and, indeed, seems entirely engrossed by these subjects, upon 
which he converses in a charming, pleasant way, though I 
fear he has made out a system to himself too perfect for 
this world, and which to bring about would be the cause of 
much disorder, and much blood would be spilt. This he 
denies ; but I fear it will but too soon show itself, for it 

22 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

gains by his account great grounds — one must not say the 
mob before him, but the people. I think it charming to hear 
talked of, but I fear they will never realise it." 

From this letter, which was written, it may be 
observed in passing, more than a year before Lord 
Edward's meeting with his future wife, it is not a long 
step to the consideration of the love of his mother 
for her son. Among her seventy or eighty letters 
to his sisters and others, there is scarcely one in 
which she does not express to them her exceeding 
love for him above all the rest. " Dear, dear Eddy," 
she writes, "how constantly he is in my thoughts." 
" In Edward nothing surprises me, dear angel ; he 
has always loved me in an uncommon degree from 
childhood." Once she couples him with two of his 
brothers, "whose greatest happiness is to be with 
me ; for, indeed, I may join\sweet Henry and dear 
Eobert even with our Angelick Eddy in this respect, 
for they have shown me on all occasions how much 
they prefer being with me to anything else. God 
bless them all, Dear Creatures ; how I do envy you 
seeing sweet Eddy all day long and his pretty Pam. ! 
Are they as comical as ever ? I hope he never makes 
her jealous, for you and I know the pain that gives. 
Real cause I am certain she will never have, unless 
she grew very different from what she is now : but 
that is not likely. ... I do not pretend to say 
that Dearest angel Edward is not the first object : 
you have all been used to allow me that indulgence of 
partiality to Him, and none of you, I believe, blame 
me for it, or see my excessive attachment to that 
Dear Angel with a jealous eye." 

Mother and Sox 


Xor was her motherly instinct at fault. Partly 
because of her very frankness, partly because her 
affection for all her children was so great, not one of 
them ever showed a trace of jealous feeling towards 
him, — although they belonged to the most jealous 
because most inipulsively-loving people on earth. 

It is easy to imagine the agony which his mother 
endured in the dark days that came in the last two 
years of his life, after he was fairly launched in the 
cause of the Rebellion — which to him was, of course, 
no Rebellion, but a desperate effort to put an end to 
the injustice and cruelty from which his country was 
suffering. To-day the injustice and cruelty, and the 
folly which inspired them, are admitted. Everyone 
knows that the cause in which he lost his life was 
the cause of ri^ht, however mistaken mav have been 
the means which he was led to adopt. Other men 
saw the injustice, and after an unavailing attempt to 
reform it by constitutional means, gave up the 
unequal contest, some from cowardice and love of 
ease, some, no doubt, from a sense of the horrors and 
bloodshed which must result from open defiance of 
the law. But for a man of Lord Edward's tempera- 
ment it was impossible to sit with folded hands 
while others suffered. More boldlv than anv of 
them, he made the constitutional effort. And when 
that failed, and he was driven to the other course, 
there is no doubt that his designs were far more 
moderate and humane than those of the men into 
whose hands the conduct of the matter fell after his 

He had no personal ambition, and cherished no 

24 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

resentment for his own wrongs. In the early days 
of his life, when he was heart and soul a soldier, and 
had already given proofs of courage and military 
skill, he refused not only promotion but high 
command against the enemies of England, offered 
to him by the Ministers of George in., because he 
conceived that honour and duty stood in the way. 
He declined to take a lieutenant-colonelcy, when he 
feared that by taking it he might seem to be con- 
doning an act of political dishonesty : 

" I am determined," he wrote to his mother, " not to 
take anything, lieut. -colonelcy or anything else. I wish my 
actions not to be biassed by any such motive ; but that I 
may feel I am only acting in this manner because I think 
it right. Besides, by my taking nothing, Leinster can the 
more easily provide for his friends, some of whom he is 
bound in honour to make provision for. I have written to 
uncle Eichmond to this same purpose, telling how I meant 
to act, and how I felt, and therefore trust he will not 
persist in trying to get me a lieut. -colonelcy. I am content 
as I am — I am not ambitious to get on. I like the service 
for its own sake, whether major, lieut. -colonel, or general, it 
is the same to me. High rank in it I do not aspire to ; if 
I am found fit for command I shall get it ; if I am not, 
God knows, I am better without it. The sole ambition I 
have is to be deserving : to deserve a reward is to me far 
pleasanter than to obtain it. I am afraid you will all say 
I am foolish about this ; but as it is a folly that hurts 
nobody, it may have its fling. I will not, however, trouble 
you any more about all this hanged stuff, for I am tired of 
thinking of it." 

He resigned the command of a secret expedition 
against Cadiz in 1790, which he had accepted from 

Mother and Son 


Mr. Pitt, on finding that his brother the Duke had 
returned him as member for Kildare ; he considered 
that his first duty was to his constituents. These 
two actions not only support his statement that he 
was not ambitious to get on ; they show him to have 
been a man with high notions of honour and duty in 
days when bribery and corruption were a recognised 
feature of public life. As for the possibility of 
personal resentment having had anything to do with 
his subsequent actions — the question needs no dis- 
cussion. Not even his arbitrary dismissal from the 
army, for the somewhat boyish folly of publicly 
renouncing his title in the heated atmosphere of 
revolutionary Paris, could provoke him to utter a 
word of reproach against those who, at the outset of 
his career, cut him off, without any form of trial, 
from the profession that he loved. 

Not ambitious, not suffering himself from any of 
the disabilities which maddened the Roman Catholic 
Irish of his time, of a particularly domestic nature, 
never happier than when he was playing with his 
children, or digging in his garden, or writing loving 
letters, or making his family merry with his drol- 
leries, — there was nothing in his own life to induce 
him to give up the peaceful metier of a simple 
country gentleman. But the cry of the oppressed 
was too strong for him ; he plunged reluctantly but 
boldly into the stream, and perished without saving 
those for whom he gave his life. 

The first result of his resolution was to cut 
him off from any real intercourse with his family. 
From the time when he joined the ranks of the 

26 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

United Irishmen his actions necessarily became 
shrouded in secrecy. Of all his kith and kin two 
only shared his confidence to any extent. The 
letters of the whole family were liable to be opened 
and read by Government officials, and consequently 
contain, as a rule, only guarded allusions to Irish 
affairs. Indeed, it was part of his plan, and not the 
least part of his renunciation, to keep them in 
ignorance, so as not to involve them in the ruin 
which he always foresaw might be his fate. " How 
very odd !," writes his mother, in one of her frequent 
letters to Lady Lucy, the sister who, as I have said, 
most closely resembled him in her strong sense of 
the ludicrous and her passionate love for justice, — 
" How very odd ! not to hear from any of you about 
what makes such a noise here." Lady Lucy was 
staying with Lord Edward when she received this 
letter, and wrote in the margin, against her mother's 
remark : "I had confidence reposed in me, and could 
not write on Politics. " Poor Duchess ! Far away 
from her two beloved children, torn with anxiety, 
yet unable to hear wdiat was going on, she could 
only hide all these things in her heart, and silently 
bear the burden which his own hands had placed 
upon her. Like him she had a constant presenti- 
ment of the end in store, and like him she resolutely 
(but how pathetically) put it aside and faced the 
world with a brave and smiling face, nerving herself 
to tread the daily round with firm steps, and writing 
cheerfully and constantly to her other children of all 
the little trivial details of her everyday life. Before 
passing on to a more particular examination of the 

Mother and Son 


various scenes in Lord Edward's career, I shall try 
in the next two chapters to picture the family life, 
first when they were still together in Ireland, and 
then during the period subsequent to his marriage, 
when the Duchess and her daughters made their 
headquarters in London. 



At the beginning of 1785, Lord Edward's sister 
Sophia began, like many people before and since, 
to keep a fitful diary, which she called " a Journal 
or Bubb of my own," after a celebrated wit of the 
day, called Bubb Dodington, whose name . had 
caught her fancy. Of Lord Edward himself it 
says little ; but it is interesting from the fact that 
it deals with a period when he was living quietly 
with the Duchess in Dublin (according to Mr. 
Ogilvie, one of the two happiest years of all their 
lives), and when very few letters passed between 
the different members of the family. Lady Sophia 
and her elder sister, Lady Charlotte, were staying 
at Castletown, just outside Dublin, with their 
aunt, Lady Louisa Conolly, living the uneventful 
life which was the lot of our great-grandmothers. 
The Castletown ladies spent their time in stringing 
bugles, looking at prints of dresses, reading aloud 
the English newspapers, the psalms and chapters, 
and other improving literature ; working at their 
carpet frames, and sewing trimmings on to their 
Castle petticoats for their occasional jaunts to 
town. For exercise they indulged in long walks, 



The Family in Ireland 


which, like their talks, they called " comfortable." 
Every now and then they were cheered by a visit 
from the " gentlemen " from Dublin, who went 
out hunting as soon as they arrived ; and in the 
evenings, when they were not sleepy and stupid 
with their exertions, generally " entertained them 
exceedingly." One or other of the ladies was 
usually in the state known as taking to her bed, 
for the monotony told rather heavily on their poor 
bodies as well as their spirits. When they fell ill 
they took a powder ; and some kind friend, usually 
Lady Sophia, was at hand to read them a "Blair" 
— in other words, a sermon by the popular divine 
of the day. When they were merely out of humour 
they took the " Blair" without the powder. But let 
the diary speak for itself. 

" While we were at Tea we heard a great Eap at the Hall 
door, which made us all start and wonder who it could be. 
I thought it was Henry and Edward. Presently they both 
came into the room ; we all worked and they chatted to us, 
and was as pleasant and as agreeable as possible, and kept 
us up till past twelve o'clock. Next day we all met very 
late at breakfast. Henry and Edward entertained us 
excessively with an account of a ridiculous Quarrel they 
had had in the morning, but were very good Friends again. 
Edward was very curious about a Letter I received to-day 
from Louisa Staples, and when we came up to bed he 
wanted me to show it to him, which I would not do. He 
put himself in a violent passion with me. I only laughed 
at him, and told him it wou'd not be fare in me to show a 
letter that she desired me not to show to anybody ; we had 
a long argument about it, and he said that if I really loved 
him I should have no secrets from him. I told him that 

30 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

anything about myself I certainly wou'd tell him, but I did 
not think it was a right thing to tell my Friends' secrets. 
He said that was all nonsence. I said I never wanted to 
know his Friends' secrets, why was he so curious about 
mine ? He then said he would tell me one that he was 
desired not to mention to anybody. My answer was he 
might do as he liked, and he did tell it me. However, I 
was determined to be faithful to Louisa, and did not show 
her letter, and I went to bed. When he heard me in my 
Koom he call'd out to me and said he forgave me, for I had 
put him in a great passion." 

A day or two after, her sister Charlotte, being 
confined to her bed, had desired her to write a letter 
to go to Dublin to the Duchess. As the object of 
the letter was to get an answer, and as there was no 
messenger who could bring the answer back, and as 
Lady Sophia did not wish to write, Lady Sophia did 
not write. 

" When I told her all this she still wanted me to write, 
and I said, ' Very well, I will,' but at the same time I 
thought it quite unnecessary : at which she took huff, call'd 
for the pen and ink and wrote it herself : this vex'd me and 
I left her Koom without saying a word, came to the 
G-allery, wrote the Journal, by which time I felt quite 
good-humoured, and went back to her, but did not stay as 
she was getting up, and did not want me. At half after 
three I dined with her : Louisa and Harriette (Lady 
Louisa's daughters) were longing to dine with us, but we 
said it was better for them to dine with my Aunt and Mr. 
Conolly at five o'clock; but Louisa said she wou'd eat the 
Guizard out of the chicken, and as she did not come for it 
immediately I put it between the two fowls to keep warm 
for her. When she came for it I told her what I had done, 
upon which she said she did not believe me. This huffed 

The Family in Ireland 


me excessively for her supposing me to say a thing I did 
not mean ; and she huffed me in the same manner at work, 
upon my proposing to have another table, as the one we 
were working upon was very inconvenient, its being so 
large, and I said I consider 'd poor Harriette's chest, as it 
must hurt her to lean so much against it ; and Louisa said, 
' Oh, to be sure, you consider her chest/ I answer'd that 
really was my reason for wishing to change the Table, and 
tho' I said no more about it I felt very angry with Louisa ; 
and at dinner as she gave me another cause to be huffed 
with her, I then did let my anger out and told her I was 
much obliged to her for taking everything I said in a 
different light to what I meant it. However, we went to 
dress, and we were very good friends, and worked at the 
Carpet all the Evening." 

One day Lady Sophia was to go to a ball in 
Dublin, and like a dutiful daughter was anxious first 
to go round to her mothers house that she might 
see her after she was dressed. But her chaperon, 
the young Duchess of Leinster, arrived late, and 
carried her off at once sans ceremonie, saying 
that their hostess, Lady Bective, had particularly 
mentioned nine o'clock on her card ; so poor Lady 
Sophia only danced one set, " being very much 
vexed at what had happened, and in no humour for 
dancing,'"' and did not see her mother till next day. 

■ She received me very coolly, and I found by that I 
had displeased her by not going to her last night. I came 
to Frescati with her. As there was Long and Fowler in 
the coach she did not say anything to me, but when we 
arrived she then told me how very much displeased she 
was with my behaviour to her. I certainly was very much 
in the wrong, and shou'd have refused going with the 

32 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

Duchess as it prevented me going to my Mother. I saw 
immediately how much to blame I was, and I am very 
sorry about it. I felt miserable at what had happened, but 
was afraid to let myself cry as company was to dine here. 
I was obliged to exert myself to hinder my tears as much 
as possible. When we went to bed Henry came to my 
dressing-room. We had a long conversation. He wanted 
to know what was the matter with me. I told him the 
whole affair. After he left me I went to bed as fast as 
possible to be at liberty to have my cry out. I cried most 
part of the night, shocked at the very idea of my seeming 
disrespectful to my Mother, tho' G-od knows I did not 
mean to do it, and it all proceeded from want of thought. 
Next day my Mother was as pleasant to me as if nothing 
had happened, but I have not forgiven myself as soon as 
my Dear Mother has. I still reproach myself, and cannot 
get it out of my mind." 

Of course " the good family," as Lady Charlotte 
always called it, did not spend all its time in getting 
huffed or in pathetic self-reproach and reconciliation. 
Sometimes, sad to say, they drank more than was 
good for them. " I have no Dublin news to tell 
you," writes Lord Edward; "besides I am rather 
stupid, for I got drunk last night at a patriotick 
Dinner, which, as it seldom happens to me now, 
makes me very miserable the next day." One 
wonders just how miserable he was on the next 
day after a certain evening when in company with 
his uncle, Donny Napier, he robbed his aunt, Lady 
Sarah, of her well-earned sleep. 

" I must now give you an account," she writes to Lady 
Sophia, " of my distresses since you went. On Thursday 
I went to Lady Lamison's and to Mrs. Meynell's, which, as 

The Family in Ireland 


it was hot, certainly did fatigue me a little, but I was sure 
to make up for it on Friday by a quiet evening and early 
going to bed. Mr. Ogilvie sat and chatted with me till 
10, and at 11, I was preparing to go to bed, when in 
walks Mr. Xapier, drunk as an owl, with 2 Colonels, whom 
I had never seen, and Edward as Drunk as his good uncle. 
' Sarah, I have brought these gentlemen to supper : give 
us some bread and cheese.' You have no idea of my blank 
face, for one of the Footmen was gone to bed very ill ; I did 
not know what there was in the House, or if the Cook was 
up to dress it, and I saw that Donny was not in a way to 
understand reason on any subject. However, after I had 
recovered my surprise, I put the best face I could on it, 
and we managed taut lien que mal, and my only reason for 
conversation was worrying Eddy about his love of his wine, 
for the 2 Colonels would not utter for fear of exposing 
themselves. I gave them strong beer to make them more 
drunk that they might go the sooner; as for Eddy, he 
stuffed and he drank comme quatre, and was my only com- 
fort, for Mr. N. was wise and stupid. At last Eddy went, 
and I retired at one o'clock to bed, being too much worried 
by this supper to sleep. At 3 Mr. Xapier came up and 
showed me a Boat close to the shore, where he and Mac- 
Donald had discovered thieves in, and they had been lying 
out on the Terrace with Pistols in case the Thieves stirred. 
This pretty piece of intelligence kept me en Fair for 2 
hours more : the Boat went off, and we were safe for that 
night. "Well, on Saturday I determined to have a good 
night's rest, when behold at 12 o'clock Mr. N. was seized 
with the gout in his stomach worse than ever. The things 
he took added to the Pain, and by 2 o'clock he was con- 
vulsed, and could neither see or hear. I sent for Mr. 
Welch, and was happily relieved from my terror by his 
assuring me all danger was over, that it was not inflamma- 
tion in the Bowells as I thought it, but a bilious cholick, 
which Castor Oil would remove : it did so at the end of 

34 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

12 hours, and left him so weak and so yellow that he will 
not be himself this week, I fear. Yon may guess a night 
of horror and running up and down-stairs was not very 
likely to rest me ; however, I have since made up all my 
fatigues by quiet and sleep, and am now quite well 

I do not suppose that anyone will choose to think 
badly of Lord Edward or his uncle on account of 
Lady Sarah's whimsical account of her nights dis- 
tresses, or shrug pharisaical shoulders over the 
depravity of our ancestors — of all our ancestors. 
The general standard on the subject was lower in 
their day : that we know. Possibly it may grow 
higher yet. But as for Lord Edward, his lapses 
were obviously slight : at his worst he was his aunt's 
only comfort, and could eat as well as drink comme 
quatre. And — by the mute testimony of the capital 
initial and italics of the incriminating word — he 
shows that he did not resemble most of his con- 
temporaries in regarding the offence as no offence 
at all. In fact it may be said once for all, though 
it is hardly necessary to point the moral conveyed 
by the letters, that Lord Edward and the FitzGeralds 
generally were distinguished by a high sense of the 
duty and beauty of morality. Once Moore talks in 
connection with Lord Edward of his delight at one 
period of his life in " certain other less legitimate 
attractions on which it is unnecessary to dwell." 
But the fact that the frank and engaging letter on 
which these remarks were based was from Lord 
Edward to his mother, makes it very difficult to see 
why Moore should have placed this interpretation 

The Family in Ireland 


upon it, especially as it is unsupported by any other 
evidence whatever. 

On the other hand, there is evidence enough in 
these letters that drinking, or rather " getting 
Drunk" was commoner in the polite society of a 
hundred years ago than it is to-day. Lady Sarah, 
for instance, tells Lady Sophia that she is the last 
person in the world to apply to in her ' : panegerick " 
on a certain Duchess. " I know" she says, " that her 
heart is bad. At least it was so 22 years ago, and 
it seldom softens with age, impudence and drunken- 
ness, and the cunning persevering passion of Interest, 
all of which your fine Duchess possessed early in life, 
all except the drinking, which is increased, / hear : 
the rest I bioiv." Not even Royalty was exempt. 
" Bye the bye," says Lady Lucy, " have you heard 
of the piece of work at the opera the other night ? 
It was this. The Prince found diaries and Mr. 
Lascelles in his box with Mrs. Fitz Herbert. They 
immediately withdrew, but he flew into the most 
dreadful passion, called them all sorts of names, and 
scolded Mrs. Fitz so loud, that all the House heard 
it. He was Drunk as you may suppose : the next 
day he begged her pardon. " 

To these I may add another trifle from Lady 
Lucy's pen, supplying, as was her wont, the 
" comical " side of the question : it need scarcely 
be said that the little aside at Lady Sophia's expense 
was quite unmerited. 

' " We long," she writes, " to get accounts of our dear 
travellers. Were you sick ? Was Lady Edward nervous ? 
Was Edward ridiculous ? That I need not ask. Oh, how 

36 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

we miss you. How we long'd for you Christmas Day. I 
am sure you eat your mince pyes just before you sail'd, or 
perhaps the Captain had provided some for the passage, in 
which case I'll be sworn you eat heartily of them. I hope 
you did not make too free with grog. "We have been 
stunned, stupefied, deafened by the Bells that have never 
ceased ringing since you went, Day nor Mght, — not for 
your going, but in honour of Christmas and a wedding, at 
which, with shame I speak it, the Bridegroom behaved very 
much as you would probably do on a similar occasion. He 
got Drunk after the ceremony and forgot the bride, and 
could not be brought to go home to her, — very different 
from Sir Charles ; affairs go on swimmingly there bye the 
bye, for altho' Punctillio won't allow her to hear the 
ceremony named as yet, she and Sir Charles retire after 
breakfast and he kisses her from ear to ear. Uncle Selby 
is for a speedy celebration and damns Punctillio." 

This slight picture of the naive and rustic side of 
the FitzGeralds family life may be completed in one 
or two touches by short extracts from three letters 
to Lady Sophia, at different times in her life. They 
are written by her sister, Lady Charlotte, by her 
grandmother, Lady Kildare, — these two she received 
when she was a girl of fifteen, — and from her niece, 
Lady Mary Coote. They deal with sufficiently 
homely subjects in a sufficiently homely way. 

From Lady Charlotte FitzGerald. 

" I hope, my dear Sophia, you will exert yourself to get 
a little forward in your learning : for believe me I shou'd 
not have half the regret to leave Dear Mama if I thought 
that you were advanced enough to be a pleasant companion 
for her, and it is quite a grievance to me to think that at 
present you are so little fit for it. Mama is very lucky, to 

The Family in Ireland 


be sure, in having Mr. Ogilvie so fond of home, but he can't 
be with her every hour in the day. When the hunting 
season comes on she will be a good deal alone, and if you 
don't try to make yourself as agreeable as possible you will 
be of no sort of good to her ; and the only way to make 
yourself agreeable is to try and apply yourself to your 
learning, and to get the better of that little obstinacy in 
your Temper that will make you so disagreeable and tire- 
some to Mama to be obliged to be always finding fault with 
you. You ought also to behave both honestly and prettily 
to Mrs. Simpson, to endeavour to make her stay with you, 
for you won't get any other to stay with you ; for suppose 
Mama gets another, and tells her her daughter is fifteen 
years of age, — why that person will think that about a 
young Lady of fifteen she will have nothing to do but to 
hear her read, etc., without any plague ; but when she finds 
that you are so childish, and that you ought to be treated 
like a child, she won't know what to do." 

From Lady Kildare. 

" I am sensible your time may be employ'd more to yr. 
advantage than diverting yr. poor old Granny, which the 
account of the Vermin did that Tormented you on yr. 
journey from Paris to the venerable chateau you are now in. 
How poor Ireland wou'd be abus'd if the Inns were half so 
nasty, but am sorry to owne that many Houses in Dublin 
are infested with Buggs, that I believe the breed was 
imported hither by foreign goods from time to time, but 
hope will not increase by care of destroying them upon first 
appearance, as they are not yet so general as in London. 
They are filthy animals." 

From Lady Mary Coote. 

" My dear Aunt Sophia. We hope that your Rheuma- 
tism is better than when you last wrote, now that the 

38 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

weather is more dry ; tho' an East wind and here smoky 
and foggy. The reason of my now writing to you is to 
caution you, and to beg that you will caution your servants, 
and all Persons that you can, against eating the blue or 
green parts of cheese, which some people prefer ; for, only 
think of it, our Cook, Mrs. W., found last week nine or ten 
common brass Pins in the Blue or Green part of some 
Cheese, apparently Cheshire — some of the Pins were inside 
the Cheese and some of them stuck outside of it as in a Pin- 
cushion. You may judge of our horror, when Mrs. W. 
brought it upstairs to show It to us ; how Shocking ! to put 
such poisonous and dangerous articles in what is perhaps 
the Food of Thousands, or perhaps Millions, of poor 
Persons, who can seldom if ever afford meat ; and we 
think it right to inform and caution as many Persons on 
the subject as we can ; without naming the Person from 
whom it was bought, who denies being aware of it. One 
comfort we find, that some Persons to whom it has been 
mentioned had already heard of such things being done, 
but more Persons had not : we understand that it is done 
to give part of the Cheese an old appearance; but how 
shocking to insert such poisonous articles for that purpose, 
and we have also heard that they also for the same reason 
sometimes insert a brass wire in Stilton Cheese and some- 
times put a Halfpenny in the saucepan with green vege- 
tables, when they are boiling, to make them look green ; so 
that the safest way is never to eat any if one ever dines 
out. We think it right to name all this, particularly about 
what we saw in the Cheeses, as a caution, after being in- 
formed of it, to as many Persons as we can." 



During the last few years of Lord Edward's life, 
from shortly before his marriage till his death, his 
mother and sisters can scarcely be said to have lived 
in Ireland at all. Occasionally one or other of his 
sisters went to stay with him at Frescati or Kildare 
Lodge, occasionally he paid a flying visit to England ; 
but for the most part their lives were separate, and 
the Duchess and her daughters made their head- 
quarters in London. Not quite the London that 
we know, bien entendu. A drive to Kensington 
Gardens from Harley Street in the chariot, or in 
Lord Henry's curricle, was for Lady Lucy a small 
expedition, and worth recording in her journal : a 
party on the water, that is to say, the Thames, — not 
of Maidenhead, but of London and London Bridge, — 
was one of the ordinary diversions of the day. Both 
the river and the air were purer than in these 
degenerate times. In their journals his sisters often 
make mention of the weather ; but there is never a 
word about a London fog, though it was just the 
sort of thing they would have noted. About large 
events they are curiously silent or indifferent ; and 
when there does occur a casual reference to some 


40 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

affair of more than passing interest, it is generally 
ranked as of less importance than matters of the 
most trivial domestic character. For example, here 
are three consecutive entries in Lady Lucy's 
journal : 

" At home all day : it is the Birthday " (the King's : it 
was afterwards the death-day of her brother). " They all 
went to the opera and to a great party at the Duchess of 
Gordon's : it is the general election, and there is nothing 
else thought of. Few contests. 

There is nothing thought of but the Itch, which is in 
the House. Opera in the evening very pleasant. It was a 
new ballet, and very pretty indeed, Cupids flying in the 

Not well. I saw Mosely, who ordered me medicines. 
All the men-servants have got the Itch : the child (little 
Eddy) first begun it. He brought it from Ireland: we 
play'd at commerce in the evening." 

If, again, we go back a year or two and turn to 
Lady Sophia's journal, we shall find her much more 
interested about Lord Henry's acting than in the 
trial of Warren Hastings. From the point of view, 
however, of gaining an insight into the daily lives 
and thoughts of the good family, there is nothing to 
regret in the quite trivial character of the letters and 
journals which they wrote in the days of their happy 
quietness, and Lady Sophia's remarks on these two 
contemporaneous events will serve as well as any 
others to introduce us to their life in London. It 
will be seen that in this particular journal she had 
adopted a quaintly effective trick of alluding to 
herself in the third person : 

The Family in London 


" Very busy all morning making up things for the play, 
dined very early, and at Four o'clock we went to Eichmond 
House Theatre to secure good places. Mother, Ciss and 
Mimie were in the Duke's Box, Sophia in the Pit in the 
first row in order to see Henry well. He really was more 
delightful and more charming than can be express'd. Every- 
body that had seen Garrick thought Henry equal to him, 
some parts beyond him ; but Henry looked much more the 
character of Don Felix, as he has one great advantage over 
Garrick, that of having a remarkable pretty figure and 
looking more like a gentleman, which I understand was not 
the case with Garrick. Mr. Walpole and all the great 
critics were charm'd with Henry, and as for the ladies they 
left the Theatre dying for love of him. 

This is the first day of Mr. Hastings' Trial. A great 
many people went to it. 

Sophia was obliged to get up very early, which she did 
not like much : breakfasted, then went to call upon Lady 
Talbot and they both went to the Trial, where they staid 
till four o'clock. Mr. Burke spoke, and they were delighted 
with him. It really was very fine. Sophia came home 
rather pitying poor Mr. Hastings, as the Trial struck her to 
be a most awful thing, and hearing himself accused of so 
many horrible crimes ; but he seemed very indifferent about 

Sophia persuaded her mother to go to the Trial to-day, 
as she knew it would entertain her to hear Mr. Burke. 
He was charming again, and Mother very well pleased at 
having gone. 

We went again to the Trial to hear Mr. Burke, who 
really made one's blood run cold with the account of all the 
tortures and cruelties in the East Indies. The Trial I under- 
stand is likely to be a party business, and of course no 
justice done. We all went in the Evening to see the play 
at Eichmond House. Henry was charming. Mrs. Siddons 
was there. She rather disappointed us in her praises of 

42 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

Henry, as she said much more about Lord Derby, who cer- 
tainly is not to be named with Henry, At the same time 
he is a very good actor, but quite in a different stile : came 
home and went to bed. 

Mother was taken very ill in the night, which vex'd us 
all very much ; for besides her being ill, we were all to have 
gone to the Trial to hear Charles Fox speak. 

Mother better but still weak. Sophia and Lucy got 
up early to go to the Trial. Sophia was to call for her 
ticket at K. House and when arrived Edward had taken the 
ticket, not knowing it was for Sophia, and so poor Sophia 
returned home ready to cry at her second disappointment, 
as Charles Fox is to speak to-day and not likely to speak 
any more upon the Trial. Edward came about six, so vexed 
at Sophia's not having heard Charles speak to-day : he had 
not the least Idea the ticket was for her." 

Asa " journalist " Lady Lucy is perhaps rather 
more exciting than her more staid and sober sister. 
In later days she was the only one of the family, 
except his wife, who had any real knowledge of 
Lord Edward's plans, and it is therefore of some 
interest to consider her character as reflected in her 
writings, before she became embroiled in politics. 
Of an excitable and emotional frame of mind, she 
had a continual craving for some vivid interest. The 
daily round and common task by no means furnished 
all her requirements. Sometimes she was in the 
depths of despair, at others she was what she would 
herself have called a regular Paddy. When in good 
spirits she found everyone and everything " human " ; 
when she was in ill-health, and consequently out of 
humour, everything was " unhuman " and "wretched." 
I do not think I shall be likely to offend anyone's 

The Family in London 


susceptibilities by setting down here a few extracts 
showing her in one of her moods of wretchedness. 
She was quite young ; she was, as I have said, 
emotional ; she had had reason to think that she 
was loved, — she saw those hopes slowly fading, and 
it made her unhappy. That has happened times out 
of number to every young thing that has a heart. 
There is something so plaintive in the almost un- 
conscious way in which she describes the gradual 
defacement of her idol, something so gentle and so 
maidenly in the way in which she refrains from any 
railings at the object of her affections (though, to do 
the gentleman justice, there is no reason to believe 
that he had deserved reproach), that no one could 
help pitying and sympathising with her as they 
read. Moreover, her wound was not so deep nor her 
sorrow so permanent as they seemed to her at the 
time likely to be ; and consequently there is enough 
justification for using what she wrote, not only for 
its personal interest, but for the picture which it 
gives of the everyday life of the family in London. 

" We had many men in our Box, one so like him ! ! 
The way of sitting, the look of the head, — and seeing him 
in the Pit I felt a sort of illusion of past happiness. 

They all went to the Opera; not me. Mimi and I 
played together, Harp and Harpsichord. I am very fond of 
the harp : it amuses me when nothing else does. The 
music had its usual effect upon me, but as usual made me 

AYe had a ball in the House. I danced with Tom 
Bligh and Charles : there was nobody else we knew, but a 
precious set of quizzes. 

Mama took me to make visits, which I hate : it snow'd 

44 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

for the first time this winter. My spirits worried from 
having been remonstrated with upon what I can't help. 

Went to Lord Mount Edgecumbe's and Lord Salisbury's : 
did not see him at any of those odious places. In the 
evening to the Opera ; nobody there. Where can he be ? 
Alas, why should it concern me ? 

I went to the Opera with Ld. Henry. In the room 
while leaning on Ld. Eobert's arm he spoke to me. Oh, 
God ! I never thought I should have again heard his voice, 
and address'd to me : I did not seek it. 

Lord Kobert came and had a talk with me. How kind 
my friends are : this is a patience week for me. 

We went to the Opera, and a miserable evening I 
spent. What I suffer'd seeing him in the Pitt, and for five 
minutes talking to some happy woman. While I — it did 
not last long however, and he look'd out of spirits. My 
angel mamma came and comforted me when we return'd 

A Day of great agitation to me : it was arranged that 
he and the Family were to be ask'd to the assembly. 
They were : he came : I saw him, heard his voice and felt 
happier, tho' without much cause. He is going out of town 
for a few days. Still much agitated : it is my own fault, I 
believe. I often wish I were quiet in my grave. 

We went to a concert : it was divine. Lord Henry had 
given him a ticket, which he return'd as he had been over- 
turned in a carriage and is confin'd from it. 

Opera in the Evening. His sister in the room : told me 
he had been ill : she was so pleasant to me. 

I shall never forget if I live a hundred years. Mama 
had an assembly, but I went to a ball at Ld. JST.'s to meet 
his sister. I had a conversation with her which will, I fear, 
throw a dark shade over my future life. 

Did not go out all day, felt ill ; it is not surprising ; 
agitation, I believe, is not so distructive to the health as the 
cold stupor of despair. 

The Family in London 


In the morning Lord Eobert brought me a letter from 
his sister in answer to one I had wrote her desiring her 
to ask her brother for a drawing he had of mine. She 
return'd it, and said he had offer cl to do it himself. Oh, 

The Edwards arriv'd from Ireland : their little boy is 
lovely. Walk'd with my brothers a large family party in 
the Square. I met his sister and walk'd with her; it is a 
great weakness, but it gave me the only pleasure I have 
felt a long while. She deserves I should love her. 

Play'd my harp in the evening alone. There is a ball 
at Almack's. I thought of it with tolerable composure. 

Lady Edward and I went to the Opera : we had a 
number of men in the box. I felt more gay than I had 
done for a long time. I saw at a distance that form I have 
so loved, and it only contributed to my spirits. That is a 
remains of weakness : it is like the pleasure one takes in 
looking at a picture of what one loves : the soul was want- 
ing, and it was the soul that so entirely attach'd mine. 

We went to the Exhibition : we had company to 
dinner, — Mr. O'Connor, the man who made the famous 
speech. He is Edward's great friend, of course a great 
Democrat. There was a great dinner at our House. I 
dined with Ld. Henry, we went to the Opera, Ldy. Ed. 
and I, and the King and Queen had got our box. 

Walk'd all morning with my brothers altho' it rained. 
Dined at Ld. Templetown's and to the Duchess of Gordon's 
in the evening : it was very pleasant, for an assembly. 
The Good Family all sat on a couch and were much 
attended to. 

The Edwards set off for Hamburgh. They leave their 
child here. 

I never see him of late. I wish I did not miss him. 
The Eoberts have inoculated their boy, as they have the 
smallpox in their house. 

I walk'd in Grosvenor Sq. with his sister, and had a 

46 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

conversation with her that has quite overset my ideas. 
Adieu to tranquillity again. I had hardly attain'd it. 
Opera in the Evening: he was not there. 

There was a ball at our neighbour Mr. Codrington's, 
where I supposed he was. I listened to the fiddles. 

There was an Opera, but I did not go to it, but to an 
assembly at Ly. Spencer's, where I thought I should not 
see anything particular ; but they were all there, the family, 
and the Miss. He had been there but was gone to a ball, 
where Mimi met him, and he asked a great deal about me. 
How strange ! 

Had one more conversation with his sister in the 
Square. She is going out of town. I don't make her out 
at all. She is very like her Brother. 

New Opera beautiful : few men in town. "We were 
unhuman altogether." 

There are one or two little episodes of the same 
nature referred to in the letters — not, however, quite 
so painful in their results, at all events as far as 
Lady Lucy was concerned. To tell the truth, she 
was not altogether a novice in the gentle art of 
flirtation, as will be seen from the following letters. 
It will be as well to conceal the identity of the 
victims of her charms by initial letters, since she 
would have been the last person in the world to 
wish to hurt anyone's feelings of malice prepense. 
And, though history does not relate whether they 
so far recovered their spirits as to marry, it is not 
improbable that they did so, nor is it impossible 
that they may have become the ancestors of some 
who may read this book. 

"You did right," she informs Lady Sophia, "to tell 
Tina about A., if you thought it would amuse her, but 

The Family in London 


don't talk of it to other people, as I don't think it right 
even by him to talk of those sort of things, and he begs 
I will not wound his feelings by divulging it : Edward will 
dye of it : I knew that day that he premeditated something, 
and I told Edward : however I never saw or heard anything 
of him till the day I left Malvern. Then came this letter 
from him : it is not ill-wrote, — he desires leave to mention 
his proposals to Mr. Ogilvie and Mama, and says he has it 
in his power to settle 1500 a year on any lady who honours 
him with her hand ; then he says that beyond the powers 
of language to express he loves me — grimy wretch ! ! You 
begged that I woidd tell you all about it, so I have done as 
I would be done by, though I hate to think of him." 

" Oh, Sophy," writes another sister, " you have never 
been told about that vile, that grimy A. having dared to 
-propose for Lucy ! He wrote her a fine romantic Love Letter 
throwing himself and pelf at her feet. He says he is no 
fortune hunter or adventurer but an English Gentleman, 
and as such he thinks himself (wretch !) not unworthy of 
her, great as she may be. Now did you ever hear such 
impudence ? Eddy will I know die of it. L think she 
gave him great rfccouragenient and I don't much wonder at 
the monster. Oh, it is too good ! ! ! Papa was in a fury. 
Mama still thinks it a joke of Eddy's. "VVe all scream and 
laugh as you may think. It was answered as it deserved, 
a cold and decided, but civil refusal. A — / Oh ! " 

Lady Sophia was, as the reader knows, the Father 
Confessor and Confidante of them all. Within a 
month of the rout of A., sad to say, we find Lady 
Lucy writing to her about B. 5 in rather different 
terms : 

" So B. has been flirting with Miss G-., and you, dear 
love, seem angry with him for it, which I love you so for, 
because it shows me you are interested about me; but if 

48 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

you had known that odd creature better you would not 
have expected him to leave off flirting. You might as well 
bid him not eat or not drink. I don't much mind that, 
unless it was serious, and indeed if it was, why should I 
mind it ? We made no promises to each other, and there- 
fore both are free. He has often told me that he would 
wish me to amuse myself as much as I pleased while he 
was away, provided I would promise to be glad to see him 
when we met. So pray don't give him angry looks or cut 
him on account of his flirting. For I would not have him 
suppose one minded it. If he should come in your way 
and talk to you he would amuse you, I am sure." 

Once more, at an even shorter interval, she sent 
to Lady Sophia the following not very flattering 
portrait of a third victim : 

" I am sure you will be glad to hear that I am likely to 
get over that foolish antipathy I have had all my life for 
Eats, as C, one of my favourite Beaux, is so like that 
animal that it is impossible not to be struck with it, and 
yet I don't shudder at his approach, which gives me hopes 
that I may not faint away when next I see a mouse as I 
did at Malvern." 

These few extracts will be enough to give an idea 
of Lady Lucy when she was in lighter vein. But in 
case anyone should be in danger of conceiving the 
false idea that there was any want of proper feeling 
in her amiable little indiscretions, I shall add one 
more to show that she held in proper detestation 
any appearance of serious trifling with the affections. 

" Tell Edward," she writes, " that his Prophecy about poor 
Georgina had very near taken place, but I gave her much 
good advice and imparted to her some of my indifference, 

The Family in London 


so that she is getting over her love for that stupid shepherd, 
who was carrying on a perfidious plan of breaking 3 Women's 
hearts at a time, but I have saved poor George from him. 
As to Henriette she is desperate about him, and little Mrs. 
S. cries in public when he sits by Henriette at supper. I 
wish you could have seen the Duchess of Eichroond's rage 
at Lady Milner's, when he was with Mrs. S. ; she absolutely 
called me to an account v:liy Mama was hand in glove with 
that very slippery sort of a little Body. 1 1 don't understand 
what sort of footing She is upon. Has she any husband ? ' 
' Yes, Ma'am.' 1 1 don't believe it, I never saw him : 
why don't she go to him ? ' ' She is going, Ma'am.' ' How 
many guineas a day will you give me till she goes ? ' I 
thought I should have died of it ; but don't you love her for 
being so good-natured as to be so interested for Henriette ? " 

The year which Lady Lucy made memorable to 
Messrs. A., B., and C. was for the Duchess and those 
of her children who were staying in London at her 
house in Harley Street a very gay one. The cloud 
which was to overshadow them was barely discern- 
ible to their eyes, though it was about this time that 
Lord Edward first began to incur the suspicions of 
the Government ; and though he was not then 
involved in any sort of conspiracy, he was beginning 
to hear faint whispers of the call which he was to 
follow to the death, and was sufficiently alive to the 
sufferings of his fellow-countrymen to find himself 
rather out of tune with the high spirits of his 

" Everybody," says Lady Lucy, " seems gone wild for 
dancing ; Cecilia and I have a very pleasant set of partners 
this year, most of them young things and in the Guards. 
It is so moving to have them setting off after a Ball to join 

50 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

the Duke of York. I described the feel to Edward once : 
it puts Ned in such a rage our being so merry, for we are 
literally a laughing club that meet in our Box at the Opera. 
We are sometimes a little noisy, to be sure ; he never speaks 
to us but to attack us, and he downright scolds Mama for 
being so young." 

" Ned," writes another sister, " seldom makes his appear- 
ance in our Box. ' Lord God/ he says, ' what should I do 
among all those boys. You are much too young and too 
riotous for me ! ' He lives with the Essex's and Charles 
Greville, who is grown grave and not comical as he used to 

At that time, when the French Kevolution was 
hardly an accomplished fact, and our own little war 
made Lord Edward's sisters " despise those that are 
loitering about Bond Street in so critical a moment," 
there were few men of thoughtful minds who were 
not grown graver than they were. And although 
Lord Edward remained " comical " to the last, he 
was affected like his fellows by the prevailing unrest, 
and his growing distaste for the gaieties of London 
soon sent him back to Dublin and the realities of 

There, having gained some idea of the sort of 
life which his mother and sisters were living in 
London, we will follow him, after a glance at the 
event which separated and linked the two main 
divisions of his life. 



It was into this impulsive, warm-hearted family, 
with its clannishness, its Irish readiness to take 
offence, its keen eye for the ludicrous, that Lord 
Edward introduced the young French girl who was 
to be his wife for five short years. At the time 
when they arrived in Dublin he was in many respects 
a marked man, becoming every day more popular 
with the patriotic party, but in spite of his winning 
personality regarded by most of those of his own 
station as a firebrand and a nuisance. The fact of 
his having openly resigned his title and called him- 
self le Citoyen Edouard FitzGerald in the first year 
of the Republic was notorious. All his sympathies 
in regard to France were believed to be with the 
sans-culottes and against his own class. Socially he 
was the born associate of the Castle party, politic- 
ally he publicly declared that he considered the 
Lord Lieutenant and his followers to be the King's 
worst enemies. As for his bride, she was not only 
French, but reputed to be the daughter of the Due 
d'Orleans, whom a turn of the wheel had just 
brought to the guillotine. Not a very amiable 
gentleman this. Skulked in the hold of his ship 


52 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

during the battle of Ushant till the last shot had 
been fired : as Citoyen Philippe Egalite voted in the 
National Assembly for the death of his cousin Louis 
xvi., and generally failed to win or deserve respect. 
Whether the current belief as to Pamela's parentage 
was correct need not now be discussed ; that it was 
then as it is now the commonly received opinion, 
may be inferred from the fact that the informer 
who did most towards the capture of Lord Edward, 
talked of her in one of his letters of information 
as Lady Egalite. 

She was, then, regarded in Dublin as the child 
of a man of royal blood who had shown more than 
ordinary hatred not only for his rank and all that it 
meant, but for his own kith and kin. These were 
not very promising credentials for the wife of one 
whose foes, outside his immediate family circle, were 
both numerous and powerful. Add to this that she 
was beautiful, that she was reckoned to be univers- 
ally accomplished, that she never took much pains 
to disguise her dislikes, and what wonder that, from 
the first moment of her appearing in Dublin, she 
became with all but a few the object of spiteful 
calumny. For Dublin was no exception to the rule 
which makes any town where the society is small 
enough to be self-contained, a hotbed of gossip. 
As the world saw her she was gay and giddy and 
fond of dancing (which she did very well, the bag- 
gage, so that Lord Edward would leave his politics 
to stand against the walls of her maligners' drawing- 
rooms to see her dance). To add giddiness to her 
French parentage — that was the unpardonable sin. 

The Coming of Pamela 


Poor soul, she had little enough time given her in 
which to be guilty of it ! Her very clothes were a 
cause of offence. " How provoking the Irish ' Lidies ' 
must be," says Emily Ogilvie, " with their prudish 
ideas about that Dear Pamela's beauteous chemise. 
I reserve mine for some great occasion, and I expect 
it to cut a great dash." Lady Lucy, too, had no great 
respect for her traducers. She took their want of 
manners and of taste as a matter of course. 

" Lady Henry," she says, " gave us an account of Ly. 
Edward going to a ball, not in mourning, but for fancy 
all in black, even black stockings with pink upon her head ; 
you may imagine the surprise of the Doblin Lidies, indeed 
they stared her out of countenance, for she came home to 
Edward, who was in bed, quite in a rage, pulled open his 
curtains and told him, 'Edward, jc ne veux plus aller an 
Bal: des gens d'wjie tel impolitcssc ! ' Dear little thing, can't 
you think you see her ? " 

But if Lady Edward was unpopular with these 
ladies, she found her way very quickly to the hearts 
of her husband's family. The Duchess loved her 
from the first, so did Lady Lucy, so did Lady 
Sophia, — in fact in all their letters there is no trace 
of anything but love for her. At first the idea of 
Lord Edward's being married appeared to them only 
funny, made them, in fact, " die of laughing." " How 
comical," says Lady Charlotte, "to see Eddy with 
a wife ! " But when the first strangeness had worn 
off it was dear Pamela, sweet, pretty Pamela, to the 
end of the chapter. Of the actual story of her 
engagement to Lord Edward, and of the effect 
produced on the family by the "Doblin lidies'" 

54 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

gossip, the diary of Lady Sophia will give a better 
and truer idea than anything that has yet been 

" I then began to read Madame de Genlis's Adele et 
Theodore" she wrote, " which I had a mind to read again, 
for I had almost forgot it, as it is eight or nine years since 
I read it. It is my intention to read all her works over 
again, for I am one of those that admire all her writings, 
and I feel still more anxious to be perfectly acquainted 
with them, since Edward has married Miss Pamela Seymour, 
who was brought up and educated by Madame de Genlis. 
Knowing too what a charming, engaging little creature 
Lady Edward is, I think I shall be more interested than 
ever, and give more attention to all she says upon 

Dear Edward first got acquainted with Pamela at 
Paris when he was last there, which was last October, but 
he fell in love with her on their journey to Tournay. An 
English Gentleman and him took that journey, on their 
way back to England, at the same time that Madame de 
Genlis did with the Duke of Orleans' family, who were 
exiled at Tournay by the National Convention out of some 
form that I do not understand. But in short it was on 
that journey (as I said before), and being a vast deal with 
them at Tournay, he was so in love, that when his fellow- 
traveller proposed to him for them to continue their journey 
on to England, Edward found he could not leave her, and 
he determined at once to propose for her, which he did, to 
Madame de Sillery, who made objections at first, but 
Edward assured her he was so much attached to Pamela 
he very soon brought her round, but she desired him still 
to continue his journey on to England and to ask my 
mother's consent ; she said that she would tell Pamela of 
his proposal, and if she liked him enough to marry, and if 
my mother approved of the match, Madame de Sillery 

The Coming of Pamela 


would then give her consent most willingly. She begged 
of him too not to speak to Pamela of it before he set out, 
and most unwillingly did he obey. So he set out with his 
gentleman, I believe, as soon as matters were settled 
between Madame de Sillery and him, and they had not gone 
a day's journey before they were overtook by a courier sent 
after them by Madame de S. with a letter to Edward, 
acquainting him that she had told Pamela of his proposal 
and that she accepted of it, and that he might return from 
England avec conjience. 

This put Edward into such spirits and made him so 
happy he continued his journey in much glee, and without 
loss of time arrived at Tunbridge, where my Mother was, 
asked her consent, which she very readily gave, for from 
his conversation she easily saw his heart was set upon it, 
and there was no use in making objections, and that it 
would be, whether she consented or not. Also she has long 
wished to have him married ; and though at that time she 
was not personally acquainted with Pamela, she knew that 
she was well brought up and every attention given to her 
education and principles, so that on that ground there 
could be no objection, and by the account Edward gave my 
Mother of Pamela's disposition and character, besides her 
personal charms and accomplishments, she thought she was 
just the Girl in the World to suit Edward, and the only 
drawback to it was her having so small a fortime, as dear 
Edward is naturally of a very expensive turn, and has, with 
all his good and perfectly amiable qualities, no Idea of 
economy. Therefore my Mother remonstrated upon that 
subject, and I believe advised him to consider well whether 
he could live and be happy upon a little. 

He staid a very short time at Tunbridge and came to 
London. I had been there some time, having left them all 
at .Tunbridge to come to Town to consult Doctor Mosely, 
as I was extremely ill with a Eheumatick Scorbutic com- 
plaint. I was not a little happy at seeing Dear Edward, 

56 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

for whom I had had many an uncomfortable feel, as that 
was just the time there were so many ill-natured stories in 
London about him, and a little before that was the time 
too he had been scratched out of the Army List. What a 
shameful piece of business that was too, and when one 
recollects that there is a person, in whose power it was to 
prevent their doing it, it makes the circumstance still 
more aggravating. 

I am one of those that never can forget the abominable 
ill-usage poor Edward has met with from His Majesty and 
his detestable Ministers, one excepted, as he is my Eelation, 
and one for whom I have naturally a great affection, and 
admire and esteem his many great and good qualities. Yet 
there has been occasions when he has put aside those good 
qualities, and they have lain dormant just at the moment 
when the Natural Ties of Affection should have brought 
them into action, and he ought never to have allow'd such 
unmerited proceedings towards a young man who bore so 
high a character in the Army, and who has both fought 
and bled for his Country in the last American War. And 
how has he been payed for his Services ? First by being 
refused a Lt.-Colonelcy, and secondly by being turned out 
of the Army t However it is all over now and cannot be 
helped, and I shall turn my thoughts to a much pleasanter 
subject, viz. Edward's arrival in London. 

The Dear Fellow dined with me the day he came to 
town, but how great was my surprise when he told me he 
was going to be married; and when he named the person 
I was still more so, as there was something so very odd and 
extraordinary in the Idea of his Meeting with a young 
person that was educated by Madame de Sillery, whom 
he used to laugh at formerly, and thought her Plans 
D' Education all perfect nonsense, and delighted in worrying 
my mother (who admires all her writings to the greatest 
degree) by telling her, her charming Madame de Genlis 
tho' she wrote such pretty books, her own character was 

The Coming of Pamela 57 

not free from censure, and that she was imagined to have 
been the Duke of Orleans' Mistress. He was not the only 
person we have heard say so, as it has been pretty generally 
thought she was ; whether true or not I can't say ; circum- 
stances make me have some doubts about it. But to return 
to his love. After my first surprise was over the Idea of 
his going to be married did divert me so, I did nothing but 
laucrh every time I thought of it. At the same time I was 


delighted to hear it, and we spent a very comfortable 
Evening, he and I talking it all over. He staid but three 
days in London, and set off again immediately for Tournay. 
He was very soon married after his arrival there, and back 
again in London in the course of a fortnight with his Dear 
little wife, to whom we all took a prodigious fancy, and I 
do hope and trust Dearest Edward has met with a Woman 
that will fix him at last, and likely to make him happy the 
remainder of his life. Besides being very handsome she is 
uncommonly sensible and agreeable, very pretty, with the 
most engaging pleasing manner I ever saw, and very much 
accomplished. They spent a fortnight with us in London 
before they went to Ireland, where they are now. 

There are sad ill-natured stories about Lady Edward 
in Ireland, which I am sorry to find, as by that I fear she 
is not very popular. However, as the stories are of a 
nature too horrid for people really to believe, I look upon 
it as of no real importance, for no person that has the warm 
feelings of a Christian can believe for a moment such vile 
reports, viz. that a Lady had seen her in the Streets of 
Dublin with a Handkerchief on her Neck spotted with 
Louis the xvi.'s blood, that some of her Friends had sent 
her from Paris. I suppose it is some of those amiable 
Ladies that are envious of Lady Edward's beauty and 
accomplishments that have invented these shocking reports. 
There are a set of those good-natured Ladies that are 
very capable of doing it, in Dublin especially, as Ly. 
Edward is very quick-sighted, and has great discernment 

58 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

in knowing people's characters immediately, and I daresay 
she put on one of those dignified, proud looks which she 
can do when she wants to keep people at a distance, and 
that has been the cause of their saying such shameful 
things of her. I have settled, too, that some of the Ladies 
who have formerly been in love with Edward, thought, I 
daresay, whenever he married, he would marry a person of 
the same sort of stamp as themselves, and when they came 
to find they were mistaken their envy then began to work 
and made them fabricate whatever they thought was most 
ill-natured. Mrs. Pakenham says that from the little she 
saw of Ly. Edward she was quite delighted with her." 

To this story of the handkerchief may be added 
another instance of Dublin gossip, taken from a 
letter of Miss H. Bowdler's addressed to Miss E. 
Ponsonby, one of the famous ladies of Llangollen. 

" I am greatly shock'cl," she wrote, " at the account 
which I hear from various quarters of M e de Genlis and 
Pamela. Can it be possible that that lovely form can really 
contain the mind of a Fiend ? I hear that when everybody 
else put on mourning for the unfortunate Louis xvi., she 
wore red ribbons, which she said were ' couleur du sang des 
Aristocrats' with many other circumstances too shocking to 
repeat. I thought her heart had been all tenderness and 
benevolence, purity and innocence, but these infernal prin- 
ciples will root out humanity as well as religion from this 
wicked world. ... I am much comforted by your account 
of Ireland, but I cannot help dreading the question of 
Parliamentary Keform. At such times as these I fear many 
will be found who will be satisfied with nothing short of 
French equality. My account of Pamela comes from so 
many different quarters that I fear there is too much truth 
in it, and I wish she would persuade her lord to take her to 
France, and leave this poor country to struggle through the 

The Coming of Pamela 59 

difficulties which these diabolical principles have brought 
upon it. . . . Keep a little ready money by you always. 
Do not think me impertinent in urging this again. I hope 
all will be well, but everybody should be in some degree 
prepared for the worst." 

It will be seen at a later stage how unfounded 
was the prevalent idea that Lord Edward's republican 
principles w^ere derived from his wife. For the 
present it is sufficient to observe how strong was 
the prejudice against her, when even simple kind- 
hearted people like the writer of this letter w r ere 
ready to believe these foolish reports. 



Behold them then, "that comedy, that buffoon, 
that dear ridiculous Eddy," with his "pale, pretty 
Pamela," established in Dublin — not yet come to 
the point when he will hide in petty tradesmen's 
houses, the easy prey of any informer who covets 
the price set upon his head, till he is dragged, 
stained with the life-blood of one of his captors, 
to die a lingering death in the common prison, 
while she is forced to fly the country, the 
broken-hearted and disgraced wife of a dangerous 
rebel. As yet they have before them two years, 
or say three, of quietly happy home-life. Put 
aside for the present any consideration of his 
public career — the background of Lord Lieutenant 
and Castle politicians, of Catholic Emancipation 
Acts and Reform Bills, of a minority driven to 
desperation by the stony indifference, or stern 
coercive measures, or wavering, half-hearted, spas- 
modic attempts at conciliation of a frightened and 
angry majority — and look only at the figure in 
the foreground of the picture — the devoted son, 
husband, brother, and father of the following 
letters : 


/'// '/h-mi/fa, 


Husband, Father and Son 


" Dublin, April 1793. 

" Dearest Mothee, — I have been very idle, and so has 
my dear little wife ; but I hope you will forgive us, — she is 
afraid you are angry with her. The truth is, the sitting up 
so late had made us late in the morning, and we get on so 
agreeably, and chatter so much in the morning, that the 
day is over before we know where we are. Dublin has 
been very gay — a great number of balls, of which the lady 
misses none. Dancing is a great passion with her ; I wish 
you could see her dance, you would delight in it, she dances 
so with all her heart and soul. Everybody seems to like 
her, and behave chilly and kindly to her. There was a 
kind of something about visiting with Lady Leitrim, but it 
is all over now. We dined there on Sunday, and she was 
quite pleasant, and Pamela likes her very much. 

Give my love to the dear Girls, and tell them how I 
love them and long to see you all, dear, dear Mother ; indeed 
I do hate being so long from you dearest, dearest Mother." 

"Feescati, 1 May 6, 1793. 

" Wife and I are come to settle here. We came last 
night, got up to a delightful spring day, and are now enjoy- 

1 The following description of Frescati was given by Lady 
Campbell : 

" Frescati was just bought as a bathing Lodge for delicate 
children. The Duchess liked it so much it was enlarged so as to 
have rooms for her when she came to see the children ; the Bray 
road ran between the house and the sea, a rocky pretty coast with 
little bays. Blackrock was quite a small fishing village. They made 
a sort of tunnel or underground passage to the sea through which the 
sea-water for the children's baths was brought up under the high 
road, of which I saw the remains, tho' it has since been blocked up ; 
a little stream ran from the mountains thro' the place into the sea. 
I believe the little park extended as far as Mr. Mixon's place beyond. 
It lay parallel to Merrion Avenue, but it had all been parcelled 

62 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

ing the little book-room with the windows open, hearing 
the birds sing, and the place looking beautiful. The plants 
in the passage are just watered ; and, with the passage door 
open, the room smells like a green-house. Pamela had 
dressed four beautiful flower-pots, and is now working at her 
frame, while I write to my dearest mother ; and upon the two 
little stands there are six pots of fine auriculas, and I am 
sitting in the bay window, with all those pleasant feelings 
which the fine weather, the pretty place, the singing birds, 
the pretty wife, and Frescati gives me, — with your last dear 
letter to my wife before me : — so you may judge how I love 
you at this moment. Yes, dearest mother, I am delighted 
at the Malvern party, and am determined to meet you there, 
or wherever you are. I dote on being with you anywhere, 
but particularly in the country, as I think we always enjoy 
one another's company there more than in town. I long for 
a little walk with you, leaning on me, — or to have a long 
talk with you, sitting out in some pretty spot, of a fine 
day, with your long cane in your hand, working at some 
little weed at your feet, and looking down talking all the 
time. I won't go on in this way for I should want to set 
out directly, and that cannot be, so I shall give you 

and cut up and sold for building by Mr. Ogilvie, into whose posses- 
sion it came on his marriage. 

As years went on it was further enlarged, and had a large square 
House added, and was then looked upon as a future jointure House. 
Leinster told me that he had found the accounts of money spent on it 
£85,000. The stables were afterwards sold and turned into villas ; 
the House was let for a boarding school for years, and then divided 
by partition walls, and let into three villas, one of which we lived in in 
1850, and in '53 we lived in the next. It is now entirely in the pos- 
session of Mr. Plunkett, who has added another house which spoils it. 
There are still the fine ceilings and pillar room ; it must have been 
a very beautiful house. The Duke and Duchess both had a great 
passion for building, planting, and gardening. Most of the handsome 
chimney-pieces had been taken down and sold when it was turned 
into a school. I have traced one or two in houses in Merrion 

Husband, Father and Son 


some account of what we have been doing. We were here 
a fortnight with the Henries, and were very pleasant : 
we — 

May 8. — My dearest, I was stopped in my letter 
by my dear wife being taken very ill; she is now much 
better, and is going on as well as possible. She has not 
kept her bed, by the doctor's advice, but lies on the couch 
in the book-room. I was frightened a good deal the first 
day at her great weakness, but she is much stronger to-day, 
and I feel quite comfortable about her. Emily says she 
will write to you, and tell you everything about her better 
than me. We have luckily had two of the finest days that 
ever were, so we have all the windows open. Not to be far 
from her, I am amusing myself dressing the little beds 
about the house, and have had the little green full mowed 
and rolled ; the little mound of earth that is round the bays 
and myrtle before the house, I have planted with tufts of 
gentianellas and primroses, and lily of the valley, and they 
look beautiful, peeping out of the dark evergreen : close to 
the root of the great elm I have put a patch of lily of the 
valley. I have got the beds well dressed, and the whole 
thing looks beautiful, and I mean to keep it as neat as 
possible while here; in short, dearest mother, at this 
moment I only want you here, and little wife well ; for, in 
the midst of the feelings of the fine weather, I want her to 
enjoy them with me. 

Pray, when shall you be at Malvern ? I shall wish to 
give her a month or three weeks' sea-bathing ; — so I expect 
to be ready to meet you in the beginning or middle of June. 
Emily, who is here, says the Henries set out on Sunday : we 
shall miss them terribly. Lady H. has been kinder than I 
can say about my wife, — everything I could wish, — and 
that is saying a great deal. 

Give my love to all the dear girls and Ogilvie; tell 
them I long to see them. I hope dear Ciss is quite well, 
and takes good long rides. I know she dotes on a fine 

64 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

spring ride. I was in hopes Pamela would have been able 
to ride with her, when we met ; but I am afraid we must 
give that up. Tell her we got the bracelets, and thank her 
very much. Pamela is as bad about writing as me, — but I 
will make one excuse, — she has, of late, had no time, for I 
kept her out all day, and took up her time to dissipate her, 
and prevent her thinking on, and vexing herself about, all 
these French affairs, which have distressed her very much. 
Good-bye, dearest mother, I have said all my say, — so bless 
you a thousand times. The dear little, pale, pretty wife 
sends her love to you. — Your Edward." 

" Frescati, June 11, 1793. 

" Dearest Mother, — We returned here yesterday from 
Castletown, where we had been a week. We had promised 
to go there a long time, but could not prevail on ourselves 
to leave this sweet place, where we are so comfortable. 
However, we at last took a good resolution, and when once 
there, passed a very pleasant week; but were delighted 
to return here yesterday evening, and enjoy this place, 
which is now in perfection. All the shrubs are out, 
lilac, laburnum, syringa, spring roses, and lily of the valley 
in quantities, four pots full now in the book-room, — in 
short, the whole thing is heavenly. I believe there never 
was a person who understood planting and making a place 
as you do. The more one sees Carton and this place, the 
more one admires them; the mixture of plants and the 
succession of them are so well arranged. We went to the 
cottage from Castletown ; it is in high beauty, in spite of 
neglect and contrivance to spoil it. The Leinsters are all 
in the country settled, and intend to enjoy it, they say. 
We shall pay them a visit after my wife has had a fort- 
night's bathing." 

Husband, Father and Son 


" Dublin, Dec. 27, 1793. 

"We arrived here last night, after a good passage of 
thirty-nine hours, all well and not much tired. We intend 
to go to Carton to-morrow, stay a day there, and go from 
thence to Castletown. Our Journey was pleasant enough, 
the weather favourable. We eat your pie on board ship, — 
it was excellent. I am not yet accustomed to be away 
from you, and think of dear Malvern with great regret, — 
so cheerful and so pleasant. After I got into the carriage, 
I recollected I had not bid Ogilvie good-bye. I hope he 
saw that it was from my hurry to get the parting over, 
and not from being careless about leaving him ; for really 
I was very sorry, and must have been very ungrateful if 
I had not, for he was as pleasant and kind as possible to 
me and my wife the whole time ; but I was vexed with 
myself that my hurry should have given me an appearance 
of neglect, where my heart spoke directly contrary. God 
bless you, dear, dear mother, and believe me, — Your affec- 
tionate, &c." 

" Dublin, Jan. 23, 1794. 

" I beg pardon for putting off answering your two dear 
letters so long, but the hurry of Castletown (what with 
balls, and hunting, and sitting after dinner) took up all 
one's time. We left Castletown last Monday, to make our 
Carton visit, where we stay till next week, and then go to 
Frescati, the quiet of which I long for. I assure you I 
often regret our dear quiet Malvern, and no party will 
ever be so pleasant to me. My dear little wife has, upon 
the whole, been cheerful and amused, which of course 
pleases me, so that Pamela is still ignorant of what has 

("What had happened" was the execution of 
the Due d'Orleans in Paris.) 

66 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

" I don't know whether aunt Louisa wrote you word 
that Conolly wants to give me his lodge at Kildare, all 
furnished and ready. However, I don't think I shall take 
it : indeed I am determined not ; — it is too much to accept 
as a present ; but I have some thoughts of borrowing it for 
next summer, trying if I like it, and if it will suit me, I 
will then take it off his hands, and pay him what it is 
worth. I understand it is worth about £300 as it stands, 
furniture and all. The situation certainly is advantageous 
for me : — six miles from Kilrush, across the Curragh ; not 
too large, and the country round pleasant. If I want a 
farm I can have one on my own estate : if I don't choose 
to undertake a farm, and wish to leave the country for any 
time, the place is so small it can be taken care of by one 
person, at little expense. I think I may try it for some 

I own that though I feel so much inclination to settle 
quietly and turn farmer, I dread anything that would oblige 
me to stay long from my dearest mother, which a great 
farm might do, — unless I had somebody whom I could 
depend on to look after it while I am away. If one pays 
attention to it, I understand by all I hear, that a grass 
farm is certainly a profitable thing. Now I think by 
taking Conolly's place for a year or so, and my farm on 
my own estate, which only pays me £14 a year, I may try 
my hand safely, and not risk much when I leave it ; and 
perhaps, in the course of carrying it on, find somebody I 
could trust to manage my business while away. I am 
constantly turning all this over and over in my head, and 
have time to consider, as Leinster Lodge cannot be had till 
November, and I shall in the meantime enjoy dear Frescati. 
I shall take a turn from there in April, and show my wife 
the two places. She at present inclines to the small house, 
as I do myself. I do like a small place so much better 
than a large one." 

Husband, Father and Son 


" Fkescati, Feb. 6, 1794. 

" I have got an under-gardener (myself) to prepare some 
spots for flowers, and to help Tim. I have been hard at 
work to-day and part of yesterday (by the by, weather so 
hot, I go without coat, and the birds singing like spring), 
cleaning the little corner to the right of the house, digging 
round roots of trees, raking ground, and planting thirteen 
two-year old laurels and Portugal laurels. I have also 
trimmed the rose trees. The flowers and shrubs had all 
got out of the little green paling ; — I am now putting them 
inside, and mean only to have a border of primroses and 
polyanthus outside, if I have any. I mean from thence to 
go to the rosery, and then to the little new planted corner. 
I am to have hyacinths, jonquils, pinks, cloves, narcissuses, 
&c, in little beds before the house, and in the rosery. 
Some parts of the long round require a great deal of 
pruning, and trees to be cut ; if you trust me, I think I 
could do it prudently, and have the wood laid by. There 
are numbers of trees quite spoiling one another. 

God bless you, dear mother, I am now going to make 
my gardener work, for he does nothing if I am not with 
him. Pamela sends you her love ; hers and mine to all the 
rest. Bless you all : this is too fine a day to stay longer 
writing. I wish to God you were here. If you want 
anything done, tell me ; if you like what I am doing, tell 
me ; if you like the part of the house we have taken, 
tell me. 

Give my love to the dear girls. Are they in beauty ? 
Has dear Ciss thrown off her country prudishness, as Lucy 
says. I think I see dear Lucia's eyes rejoicing at the 
rattling pavements, and hear all her funny jokes on coming 
to London. When I let myself go to think of you all I 
do long so to be with you and be of your party. You are 
so much pleasanter than other people, besides one's Love 
for you." 

68 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

" March 4. 

" I received your dear letter on my road to Town the 
other day, and was delighted with it. I do not think you 
are just in thinking me such a Blab. I really think I am 
quite the contrary. However, if I was I am certainly not 
now, for I don't see people enough to make me Blab. One 
only Blabs to people one lives a great deal with, and about 
people who live a great deal together. So write away 
without any fear and comfortably. Except to Sophy and 
my wife nothing shall go farther. I agree with you quite 
about trifles. Nothing is a trifle, particularly in such a 
large Family as ours, and if everything is told and repeated 
it takes off all comfort in writing or talking, for, as each 
person may be supposed to have their Friend, the smallest 
trifle by the time it has gone thro' the Family and its 
Friends may be highly magnified. Pam went to a ball the 
night before last and liked it very much. She looked very 
pretty. She goes again this week to the play or to some 
party. We mean to go for the future always to the 
Leinster Hotel, where there are very good rooms, and we 
like it better than Leinster House, as we thought they 
were not pleasant the last time we were there, and being 
at dear Mother's house spoiled us from liking other people's. 
I was at first angry with Leinster, but it is gone off ; and 
now I am glad of it, as I feel more comfortable in not 
depending on anybody. "We are as comfortable as possible 
here, and Pam is grown fat and well. Sophy in high spirits, 
and seems comfortable. I saw your letter with all en- 
quiries, dearest of Mothers. How I love you. I can assure 
you I am just as you would wish me to be. 

Ogilvie will have glorious weather for his journey : 
I shall be delighted to see him: he does quite right to 
come. I believe Lord W. only wants to see him to settle 
about Frescati. Mrs. S., whom I saw yesterday, told me 
he was now determined on taking it. This makes me at 

Husband, Father and Son 


last look about me. We go to Newbridge, twenty-six 
miles from this, and mean to stay three days there to look 
about us. 

I have heard a beautiful description of that part of 
the county of Wicklow, and everything sets cheaper than 
about the parts we know. I think I shall like anything 
in the county of Wicklow better than Leinster Lodge or 
Kildare, the country is so much more beautiful ; and when 
one is to settle, why not choose a pretty spot and pretty 
country ? I think it is worth while paying a little more 
rent, and, if necessary, curtailing in other things, as in 
servants or houses. I own also I like not to be Lord 
Edward Fitzgerald, ' the county of Kildare member/ &c. — 
to be bored with 1 this one is your brother's friend/ — ' that 
man voted against him/ &c. In short, by what I hear of 
this place, I shall be very quiet, — not a gentleman nearer 
me than six miles, except a young Mr. Tighe, whom I 

I am a little ashamed when I reason and say to myself 
1 Leinster Lodge would be the most profitable. Ninety persons 
of one hundred would chose it, and be delighted to get it.' 
It is, to be sure, in a good county ; plentiful, affords every- 
thing a person wants, but it has not mountains and rocks, 
and / do like mountains and rocks, and pretty views, and 
pretty hedges, and pretty cabins, — ay, and a pleasanter 
people. In short, I shall certainly, I think, fix on the 
Wicklow place ; — that is, if I like it. If not, I shall take 
some place that is to be let for the summer, or by the 
month, to go to from here. 

Poor Frescati ! I shall be sorry to leave it. I look 
at all the trees and places with regret. I hope, however, 
to see everything blossom before I go ; for two or three 
days more will bring all the lilacs completely. My dear 
little wife is very well — goes on delightfully. I never saw 
her look so well; she is grown both broad and long. 
Indeed, she has quite taken a fit of growing." 

70 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

I think I see dear Lucia in high London go, which I 
suppose she is in at present ; I think I see her dear face 
full of Kensington Gardens, opera, warm spring, notes, 
funn, and a little love I daresay. Somehow or other she 
is always the striking feature of the Family when one 
turns one's eyes to your London time. I wish I could put 
under your dear eyes three flower-pots stuffed with jonquils 
picked, and four pots with them growing in them, the least 
having eight bells, a pot of purple stock and fern pots of 
gencinella all dumped together. You would enjoy it, and 
I should like them better if I saw them with my dearest, 
dearest Mother. God bless you, dear Mother." 

" Kildake, June 23, '94. 

" I write to you in the middle of settling and arranging 
my little family here. But the day is fine, — the spot looks 
pretty, quiet, and comfortable ; — I feel pleasant, contented, 
and happy, and all these feelings and sights never come 
across me without bringing dearest, dearest mother to my 
heart's recollection. I am sure you understand these feel- 
ings, dear mother. How you would like this little spot! 
it is the smallest thing imaginable, and to numbers would 
have no beauty ; but there is a comfort and moderation in 
it that delights me. I don't know how I can describe it to 
you, but I will try. 

After going up a little lane, and in at a close gate, you 
come on a little white house, with a small gravel court 
before it. You see but three small windows, the court 
surrounded by large old elms ; one side of the house covered 
with shrubs, on the other side a tolerable large ash ; upon 
the stairs going up to the house, two wicker cages, in which 
there are at this moment two thrushes, singing ct gorge 
deployie. In coming into the house, you find a small 
passage-hall, very clean, the floor tiled ; upon your left, a 
small room; on the right, the staircase. In front, you 

Husband, Father and Son 


come into the parlour, a good room, with a bay window 
looking into the garden, which is a small green plot, sur- 
rounded by good trees, and in it three of the finest thorns 
I ever saw, and all the trees so placed that you may shade 
yourself from the sun all hours of the day ; the bay window 
covered with honeysuckle, and up to the window some 

Going upstairs you find another bay-room, the honey- 
suckle almost up to it, and a little room the same size 
as that below ; this, with a kitchen or servants' hall 
below, is the whole house. There is, on the left, in the 
courtyard, another building which makes a kitchen; it is 
covered by trees, so as to look pretty; at the back of it 
there is a yard, &c, which looks into a lane. On the side 
of the house opposite the grass plot, there is ground enough 
for a flower-garden, communicating with the front garden 
by a little walk. 

The whole place is situated on a kind of rampart, of 
a circular form, surrounded by a wall ; which wall, towards 
the village and lane, is high, but covered with trees and 
shrubs; — the trees old and large, giving a great deal of 
shade. Towards the country the wall is not higher than 
your knee, and this covered with bushes ; from these open 
parts you have a view of a pretty cultivated country, till 
your eye is stopped by the Curragh. From our place there 
is a back way to these fields, so as to go out and walk, 
without having to do with the town. 

This, dearest mother, is the spot as well as I can give 
it you, but it don't describe well ; one must see it and feel 
it ; it is all the little peeps and ideas that go with it that 
make the beauty of it to me. My dear wife dotes on it, 
and becomes it. She is busy in her little American jacket, 
planting sweet peas and mignonette. Her table and work- 
box, with the little one's caps, are on the table. I wish my 
dearest mother was here, and the scene to me would be 

72 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

I will now answer some of your dear letters. 

Pam is as well as possible, better than ever ; the only 
inconvenience she finds is great fulness, for which she was 
bled this morning, and it has done her a great deal of good. 
I can't tell you how delighted she was with your china, and 
how it adds to the little manage ; it is beautiful, and your 
dear way of buying and giving it goes to my heart. What 
would I give to have you here drinking tea out of it ! 
Ogilvie flattered us with the prospect the last day we dined 
with him. If you do not come, we will go to you, when 
you think Pamela will bear it. I don't know how nursing 
and travelling do, but I should think, if the child should 
prove strong, it won't mind it. 

Parting with poor Prescati did make me melancholy, 
as well as the idea of your settling away from us ; but, 
certainly, there are good reasons for it. If you can once 
recover your money for Prescati, it will be a great object, 
and not be missed ; and then, after parting with it, I don't 
think you would like Ireland, besides perhaps the marrying 
of your girls in England, and then, a very great reason, 
Ogilvie liking England so much better, and disliking this 
country so much that I really think he could not be happy 
here ; and tho' I am sure he would try to make up his mind, 
yet I think he could not do it so as to make you comfort- 
able ; and tho' he may have good sense, my dearest mother 
has, I think, better sense and more reason, and more what I 
call philosophy, and can bring her mind better to be happy 
in any situation than he can. If you saw him not happy 
and vexed, which I am sure would be the case, you could 
not be easy, whereas I know whatever little yearnings you 
may have, if you see him pleased and the girls happy, you 
will be contented. The idea of having considered others 
and not yourself will always be pleasant to your dear 
heart, and your true good sense, in reflecting how much you 
have to make you happy, tho' you may not have it exactly 

Husband, Father and Son 73 

in the place or the way you like, will always make you 
happy and content. Poor dear Ogilvie, with all his sense, 
has not this turn of mind. I have tired you by this long 
scrawl. I have not said half I feel, for it is one of those 
delightful days when one thinks and feels more than one 
can say or write. I won't read over my letter, for fear of 
not sending it. I have read it over, and find it rather full 
of sentiment, feels and feeling, but it slipt out a little 
Sarahish, but if I do not send it you will get no letter, and 
I know you like hearing from me. Burn it though, without 
showing it. 

Pray tell Sophy I am breeding a young Hercules for 
her, a little boy I found here without Father or Mother. 
Sophy must not be impatient tho', for she will have some 
time to wait, for he is only four years old." 

" 1794 — Dearest Mother, — I ought to thank you for 
your kind thoughts about us at this moment, — for your 
present of the requisites, which really helped us a great 
deal, and which you were quite right in supposing we had 
not thought of. Pam is going on as well as possible, strong, 
healthy, and in good spirits. We drive and walk every day : 
she never thinks of what is to come, I believe, or if she does, 
it is with great courage ; in short, I never saw her, I think, 
in such good spirits. Seeing her thus makes me so, and I 
feel happy, and look forward with good hope. Thank God ! 
I generally see all things in the best light. 

I had a delightful letter from the girls at Hastings, 
one of the best letters I ever read, — so full of fun, wit, and 
humour, and everything so well told. I have not answered 
it yet, and am almost afraid, — mine must be so stupid ! for 
I confess Leinster House does not inspire the brightest ideas. 
By the by, what a melancholy house it is ; you can't con- 
ceive how much it appeared so, when first we came from 
Kildare ; but it is going off a little. A poor country house- 
maid I brought with me cried for two days, and said she 

74 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

thought she was in a prison. Pam and I amuse ourselves 
a good deal by walking about the streets, which, I believe, 
shocks poor Emily a little. Pour soul ! she is sometimes 
very low. 

My little place will be charming next year; this last 
month and the present would require my being there ; but 
I must take care of the little young plant that is coming, 
which will give me great pleasure, I hope. Believe me, 
dearest, best mother, your affectionate Edwakd." 

"Dublin, October 20, 1794. 

" The dear wife and baby go on as well as possible. I 
think I need not tell you how happy I am ; it is a dear 
little thing, and very pretty now, though at first it was 
quite the contrary. I did not write to you the first night, 
as Emily had done so. I wrote to Me. Sillery that night 
and to-day, and shall write her an account every day till 
Pam is able to write herself. I wish I could show the baby 
to you all — dear mother, how you would love it ! Nothing 
is so delightful as to see it in its dear mother's arms, with 
her sweet, pale, delicate face, and the pretty looks she 
gives it. 

By the by, dearest mother, I suppose you won't have 
any objection to be its godmother, though I own I feel 
scrupulous, as you were so kind to her about her lying-in 
clothes ; and I do hate taking your poor guineas for such 
foolish nonsense ; but still I like, as there are such things, 
that it should be you. Charles Fox and Leinster are to be 
the godfathers. Pray ask Charles Fox if he has any objec- 
tion ? Good-bye, dear mother. I am going to play a game 
of chess : there is a Sir George Shee here that plays very 
well : he and I play a good deal. Bless you, dear Mammy. 
Love to the dear girls. — Your, &c." 

Husband, Father and Son 


" Dublin, Nov. 4, 1794. 

" Thank God ! you are relieved from yoivr anxiety for 
our dear Lucy. She has had a bad attack, dear soul ; but 
I hope now she will soon recover, and be better than ever, 
which was the case after that fever she had once before at 
Boyle Farm. You have had a severe time of it, dear 
mother, but I hope now you will be repaid by seeing her 

I am sure it will be some comfort to you to hear that 
my dear wife goes on charmingly ; a most excellent nurse, 
and the little boy thriving. I do not see much likeness in 
him to anybody : he has Pain's chin, the eyes blue, but not 
like either of ours. However, at present one cannot say 
much, as he does not open them much. Pamela is to drive 
out the first fine day, and in two or three days after that 
we go to Carton. Little St. George and Edward are to be 
christened at the same time. Thank you for standing god- 
mother. How I long to show you the little fellow ! and 
how I should like to be with you now, my dear mother, to 
comfort you and keep up your spirits, and occupy you a 
little by making you nurse my little boy ! 

There is no news here about our Lord-lieutenant, with 
which people were occupied for so long a while. For one, 
I was very indifferent about it ; and, if anything, am glad 
Lord Fitzwilliam does not come, as perhaps it may make 
some of our Opposition act with more spirit and deter- 
mination. I think any people coming into the government 
of this country at present will have a hard task of it. — Your 
affectionate, &c." 

" Dublin, Nov. 17, 1794. 

" Our accounts of our dear Lucy to-day are very un- 
comfortable and distressing ; though I think not alarming, 
as it is all the regular progress of that kind of fever of 
which the danger is over, though her re-establishment will 

76 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

be tedious. But if the accounts are distressing to us, how 
much must you suffer, who are a constant attendant on her, 
the dear soul ! and who see all her sufferings, and all the 
changes of this tedious illness ! I do feel for you, my 
dearest mother, from my heart, and for Ogilvie, and the 
dear girls. 

I have been these few last days preparing to go to the 
country. I have sent off dear Pam and the baby to-day, 
and follow to-morrow : they are both well — have been both 
out walking. Pam gets strong, and the little fellow fat 
and saucy : he has taken such a fancy for the candle, that 
it is almost impossible to make him sleep at night. A 
cradle he don't like, and wants always to have his cheek on 
his mamma's breast. He every day grows, I think, like me 
in his mouth and nose ; but the eyes I don't yet make out. 
Dearest mother, I try to give you details of things that will 
interest you ; and if our dear Lucy is better, I know they 
will. It is terrible to have her thus : to have all that good- 
nature, softness, and gaiety subdued by sickness goes to 
one's heart ; but I hope, while I write this, she is better. 
My dear mother, I should like to be with you, to comfort 
you and keep up your spirits. — Your affectionate, &c." 

" Carton, Nov. 25, 1794. 

" A thousand times I wish you joy of the great amend- 
ment in our dearest Lucy's health. Your letter took quite 
a load off my heart ; for though I was not frightened after 
Mosely and Warren said she was out of danger, yet the 
having her still so ill and suffering made me very melan- 
choly. Thank God ! she is so much better, and of course, 
my dear mother, so much easier. Pray thank my dear Ciss 
for her letters. I will write in a day or two to her. 

We have been here a week. Pamela was not well for 
a day, but it was only a little bilious attack, and a ride or 
two on the pony quite put her right ; she is now going on 

Husband, Father and Son 


perfectly well, walks every day, gains her strength and 
good looks. The little fellow is delightful, improving every 
day, takes his walks, and, in short, is everything we could 
wish ; he must be taken great notice of, spoken to, and 
danced, or otherwise he is not at all pleased. We are to 
stay here another week, then go to Castletown for a week, 
and return here for the christening, which is to be the 8th 
of next month. This keeps us ten days longer from home 
than we intended, which I am sorry for ; but I did not like 
bringing the little fellow down to Kildare, and then having 
to change him again so soon as bringing him here on the 
8th would have obliged me to do. So I make up the time 
between Castletown and this place ; though, to tell you the 
truth, longing to get home. 

My little place is much improved by a few things I 
have done, and by all my planting ; — by the by, I doubt if 
I told you of my flower-garden, — I got a great deal from 
Frescati. I have been at Kildare since Pam's lying-in, and 
it looked delightful, though all the leaves were off the trees 
— but so comfortable and snug. I think I shall pass a 
delightful winter there. I have got two fine large clumps 
of turf, which looked both comfortable and pretty. I have 
paled in my little flower-garden before my Hall door, with 
a lath paling, like the cottage, and stuck it full of roses, 
sweet briar, honey-suckles, and Spanish broom. I have got 
all my beds ready for my flowers ; so you may guess how I 
long to be there to plant them. The little fellow will be 
a great addition to the party. I think when I am down 
there with Pam and child, of a blustery evening, with a 
good turf fire and a pleasant book, coming in, after seeing 
my poultry put up, my garden settled, — flower-beds and 
plants covered for fear of frost, — the place looking comfort- 
able, and taken care of, I shall be as happy as possible ; and 
sure I am I shall regret nothing but not being nearer my 
dearest mother, and her not being of our party. It is, 
indeed, a drawback and a great one, our not being more 

78 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

together. Dear Malvern ! how pleasant we were there : 
you can't think how this time of year puts me in mind 
of it. 

You will have a comfortable winter, or at least part of 
one, at Boyle Farm, and our dear Lucy will be well and 
enjoy it, and keep up your spirits with her dear jokes. 
Give my love to them all, dear souls ; and love to 0., who 
has been (Mosely tells me) Lucy's Nurse night and day, 
dear fellow. Adieu, dearest of mothers. Love always your 
affectionate son, E. F. Pam always joins in all I say and 
feel for you all." 



In the arrangement and selection of the letters I have 
so far avoided as far as possible any direct reference 
to politics, trying only to use those which illustrate 
the home life of Lord Edward and the other Fitz- 
Geralds. The time has come when it is no longer 
possible to follow this course, when it is necessary to 
view at close quarters the influences which deter- 
mined his later actions, in order to arrive at a just 
estimate of his personal thoughts and feelings. To 
do this it will be better to follow as closely as the 
letters will allow the actual order of events. The first 
division of time corresponds exactly with the period 
covered by his Frescati and Kildare letters to his 
mother, which have been already quoted, that is to 
say the years '93 and '94, during which, though 
actively hostile to the Government, he never went 
beyond the limits ordinarily allowed to members of 
Parliament in opposition, and in spite of far greater 
provocation stopped short of the point reached by 
many an Irish member of the House of Commons in 
our own time. 

At the beginning of '93, two days before Lord 
Edward's first appearance in Dublin with his wife, 


80 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

a letter to Lady Lucy gives an idea of the light in 
which he was regarded by the English Ministers, in 
consequence of the action which had lost him his 
commission in the army. The writer is the same 
sister who in other times had so marked a genius 
for huffing Lady Sophia, now become Lady Charlotte 

" Jan. 22, '93. — I like particularly to get letters under 
existing circumstances. That expression is, I think, as well 
adapted to the good Family at present as it might be to the 
Kealm, for events crowded upon events, and though there 
were no alarms there were dangers attending some of them 
which made me more than usually anxious to hear of the 
good family. I understand your feel about not going to 
Court ; I think it's a pity Cecelia was not there, tho' I 
should not be surprised if my Mother never went there 
again for their treatment of Eddy. Not that it is them, but 
Mr. Pitt, who delights in trying to humble such Noble 
Families, and that is the way of showing when people are 
displeased : 'tis not like Party Business ; 'tis an insult in 
my Eyes, which, unless Eddy was in actual Eebellion, the 
good Family must resent. At least I should, were I in 
question ; but we married Women ought to divest ourselves 
of these Family prejudices and see and hear only with the 
Eyes of our husbands' Families. There is an old saying 
that Women should have no Keligion till they are married. 
It should be the same with regard to Politics in England, 
and I fancy it implied that, as ♦Politics and Eeligion were 
very much mixed in those days. For my part I am too old 
to change my creed, and I admire what .they are doing in 
Ireland. I like Mr. Conolly's speech, and think he made a 
very good distinction between 1782 and the present. . . . 
How delighted they will all be in Ireland with Pamela. I 
reckon she will be made a great Fuss with in Dublin, where 

The Whirl of Politics 81 

they have Taste. I think I see them all in their different 
ways so curious to see her and hear her. The Wall-Flowers 
and that sort will, I think, be afraid of her at first, and be 
so surprised at Eddy's getting her of all people. I can see 
Bishop Marley — eying her and then coming out with some 
commical remark or other, in a half mutter and then look- 
ing again and saying he is convinced novj — in his way." 

Lord Edward had hardly been a week in Dublin 
when the action of the Government in proclaiming 
a public meeting of the then disbanded Old Volun- 
teers (intended to celebrate the recent French victory 
at Brabant), caused him to forget himself so far as 
to utter a certain often quoted remark about the 
Lord Lieutenant and his followers. The account of 
this episode which Lady Sophia committed to her 
journal agrees substantially wdth Mr. Moore's report, 
but may be quoted as giving the family view of the 
first event of importance in his political career. 

" Edward," she says, " was in a great hurry to go over 
to attend the Irish Parliament, and not a great while after 
he was there an unpleasant piece of Business happened to 
him. In the course of one of the Debates he got up and 
spoke rather in too warm a manner ; saying that he looked 
upon the Lord Lieutenant and the majority of the House of 
Commons as Enemies to Ireland, and they were the cause 
of the present situation of the Country. This made a great 
noise in the House, but Edward repeated the same words, 
and they were ordered to be taken down by the Clerk. 
Edward withdrew with some of his Friends, to whom he 
said, having spoken his clear opinion, and having heard 
the very same opinion delivered in the House by other 
Members, although perhaps in other words, he would not 
retract it. Being informed that the terms and the manner 

82 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

in which he expressed himself were unparliamentary, he 
said he was not much accustomed to Parliamentary speak- 
ing, and was ready to make an acknowledgement to that 
effect, in a paper to be read to the House. Lord Hilles- 
borough very good-naturedly undertook to read the apology. 
The paper being read, it was objected that it did not express 
his being sorry for what he had said, and Edward refusing 
to make any further concession (he was perfectly right), he 
was ordered to attend next day at the Bar. He attended 
accordingly and said ' I am sorry to find that certain ex- 
pressions I used last night were unparliamentary and have 
given this House offence. I hope this apology will suffice. 
I shall be sorry to be obliged to leave the House at a 
moment when there are questions of great importance 
coming on/ The latter part of this was objected to, and 
the House divided. Por accepting it as a sufficient apology, 
133. Against accepting it, 53. Majority for accepting it, 80. 

We were all delighted to see the Majority. At the 
same time we were pretty sure that had he been expelled 
the House, the County of Kildare would most undoubtedly 
have chosen him again. It has been an unpleasant affair 
altogether, but I am so glad he did not retract what he had 
said, as I am sure many others have said the same with 
impunity ; but unfortunately he is, at this critical moment, 
a marked man. I wish he was not quite so warm and 
violent. It is so impolitic, I think, to set out with such 
violence, for by so doing he may do the Cause more harm 
than good. I hope his Priends will advise him to keep 
quiet a little ; I think he is right about many things, and 
the end he wants to bring about should be done in 

Not long afterwards Lady Sophia was reminded 
in a way which she found particularly disagreeable 
of the pains and penalties attached to her relation- 
ship to this man of mark. 

The Whirl of Politics 


" March 1. — When I came home," 1 says the journal, 
" I found some letters, one from my mother saying she 
wished me to go to town for a few days, for that people 
were beginning to inquire what I was doing in the Country 
by myself, and thought it very odd. I do think it is very 
hard that I can't stay peaceably in the Country without 
people asking questions, and who one knows don't care two 
pence about one, and only ask them for the sake of talk 
and to gratify curiosity. This letter put me in a little fuss 
and fidgett, for the thoughts of going to town quite dis- 
composed me, for I hate to think I must interrupt the 
pleasant quiet course of life I lead here, and which agrees 
so well with my health and spirits. I do hope they will 
let me return to my dear retirement which I do enjoy so 

In the letter to which she refers, the Duchess, 
after urging her to come to town and show herself 
in order to allay people's curiosity, makes the follow- 
ing remarks about her son : 

" The Dungannon proceedings are, as you will see, all in 
the Papers, and Edward's name not mentioned. He had, in 
truth, nothing to say to them in any way whatever, and 
was only led to go there from mere curiosity ; but it was an 
imprudent one at this time, as anything he does is so mis- 
represented, and it is plain to see nobody believes one word 
one says in his defence." 

The sting of the letter, however, lies in its post- 
script, which was added by Mr. Ogilvie : 

" I hate to unsettle you, but at this moment the Family 
is so conspicuous and so much talked of from the very false 
and malicious reports that have gone about of poor Edward's 
being in Eebellion, that it is absolutely necessary for you to 

1 Thames Ditton. 

84 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

appear, to show the world that you are as usual. For from 
the busy enquiries made after you, we see and all agree, 
that the World thinks your Ketreat very odd, and I dare- 
say if not prevented by your appearance soon will good- 
naturedly conclude that you are retired like Miss Keppel 
formerly, and will soon add that you have had Twins, like 
the lady in the School for Scandal. So, my dear Sophia, 
you must come up for a few days and show your dear little 
Chien de Visage, at the Opera, etc., and then you may go 
back in perfect security. But come you must, dear Sophia, 
so pray make up your mind about it. I beg of you to be 
ruled by me in this little matter, and do it, however dis- 
agreeable it may be to you in other respects. There are 
Devoirs and Egards that the World imperiously exacts of 
us : at this moment I see a disposition to misrepresent 
anything belonging to the FitzG-eralds — from their Politicks 
and the Envy they excite. This I see even among those 
the nearest connected with them, and you must sacrifice 
your Comfort and Ease for a few days to destroy the 
Machinations of calumny and Malice. We never should 
bear such a thing, but we see that the Curiosity about you 
is excessive and that nobody believes a word we tell them 
of the Eeasons and motives of your being at this time in 
the country and alone." 

The remaining letters of this period — compara- 
tively speaking, the calm before the storm — are, 
with one exception, from Lord Edward to his mother, 
written from among the flower-beds of Frescati and 
Kildare Lodge. They show only too clearly his 
gradually waning hope, his growing despair of any 
real reform by constitutional means. 

" April '93. — There is nothing going on in the House, 
and I believe our Reform will not take us long, so that I 
suppose Dublin will soon be empty. I find by your letter 

The Whirl of Politics 


that people are as violent about politics in London as they 
are here, which is pretty well. My differing so very much 
in opinion with the people that one is unavoidably obliged 
to live with here, does not add much, you may guess, to the 
agreeableness of Dublin society. But I have followed my 
dear mother's advice, and do not talk much on the subject, 
and when I do, am very cool. It certainly is the best way ; 
but all my prudence does not hinder all sorts of stories 
being made about both my wife and me, some of which, I 
am afraid, have frightened you, dearest mother. It is 
rather hard that when, with a wish to avoid disputing, one 
sees and talks only to a few people, of one's own way of 
thinking, we are, at once, all set down as a nest of traitors. 
From what you know of me, you may guess all this has not 
much changed my opinions ; but I keep very quiet, do not 
go out much, except to see my wife dance, and — in short 
keep my breath to cool my porridge." 

"May '93. — Our Parliament did business yesterday. 
What is to be done was partly told us, — a new arrangement 
of the revenues, a pension bill, and a place bill, — but the 
sums not mentioned. I am afraid we shall have only farm, 
not suhstomcc ; no saving of expense, no abolition of places, 
and a great increase of taxes. Ogilvie will explain it all to 
you, if you wish to know it. What is to be done, though, 
will, I believe, take a good deal of time. I do not think we 
shall be up these six weeks, which I am vex'd at, as it will 
delay us seeing you, dear, dear mother ; but we shall enjoy 
Frescati. I wish Ogilvie was here now, and in Parliament ; 
he would be of use. I think we shall be bamboozled or 
deceived in this arrangement. I do not think our people 
understand well what they are about." 

"Jan. '94. — Politics do not go on well, I think. The 
leaders of opposition are all afraid of the people, and dis- 
trusted by them of course. Leinster really is the only man 

86 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

who seems fair and honest, and not frightened ; but as he 
sees himself not supported by the rest of the party, and 
does not approve of their ways of thinking, he means to 
keep quiet, and entirely out of the business. Conolly is the 
same as usual — both ways ; but determined not to support 
Government. His Militia has frightened him : he swears 
they are all republicans, as well as every man in the Work. 
He concludes all his speeches by cursing presbyterians : he 
means well and honestly, dear fellow, but his line of pro- 
ceeding is wrong. Grattan I can make nothing of. His 
speech last night on the Address was very bad, and the 
worst doctrine ever laid down, viz. that this country is 
bound, right or wrong, without inquiry, to support England 
in any war she may undertake. There was no division on 
the Address, but, I believe, there will be something done 
to-night. If there is not, I shall not go to Parliament again 
during the session. It is in vain to look to that quarter for 
anything; and if the people don't help themselves, why, 
they must suffer. There is not a person that doesn't abuse 
this war, yet no man will take measures to stop it. It will 
stop itself at last, but I am afraid with very bad con- 

I won't bore you any more about our politics ; you may 
see I am not in great good humour about them. If we do 
anything to-night to support Charles Pox and his friends 
against the war, I shall be in better humour. I own 
altogether I am greatly provoked at them all, when I see 
every man acting in the very manner calculated to bring on 
those ills they say they are so afraid of ; — but no more on 
this subject." 

" July '94. — I have not stirred from this place since 
we came. I intend paying a visit for a day to Castletown 
or Carton next week. We have been busy here about the 
militia ; the people do not like it much, — that is, the common 
people and farmers, — and even though Leinster has it, they 

The Whirl of Politics 87 

do not thoroughly come into it, which I am glad of, as 
it shows they begin not to be entirely led by names. I am 
sure, if any person else had taken it, it could not have been 
raised at all. It has required all his exertion to bring the 
people into it, in any manner, and they are not at all cordial 
to it. We are by no means so eager in this vile war as the 
people in England ; and if it is not soon put a stop to 
in England, I am in hopes we shall take some strong 
measures against it here. Besides its wickedness and 
injustice, it is the very height of folly and madness, and at 
present there is more likelihood of the French getting to 
Amsterdam than the combined armies to Paris. 

I hear there is a talk of a change here in the Ministry ; 
but I do not know anything for certain. Leinster comes 
here to-day. He will perhaps know something. It is said 
Ponsonby is to come in, and that there is to be a total 
removal of all the old set, with an offer to all the opposition. 
When I see Leinster, I shall soon find how the wind sets in 
his quarter. I trust, though, that he will be stout, and 
have nothing to say to any of them. I know if he goes over, 
I shall not go with him, for my obstinacy or perseverance 
grows stronger every day, and all the events that have 
passed, and are passing, but convince me more and more, 
that these two countries must see very strong changes, and 
cannot come to good, unless they do. I won't bore you any 
more with politics, dear mother, as I know you don't like 

"Nov. 4. — There is no news here about our Lord- 
lieutenant, with which people were occupied for so long 
a while. For one, I was very indifferent about it ; and, 
if anything, am glad Lord Fitz William does not come, as 
perhaps it may make some of our Opposition act with more 
spirit and determination. I think any people coming into 
the Government of this country at present will have a hard 
task of it." 

88 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

This last extract was probably written during a 
fit of temporary depression. In spite of its tone 
with reference to the anticipated arrival of Lord 
Fitzwilliam, whom the Irish as a body were ready 
to hail as their expected Deliverer, there is no doubt 
that Lord Edward had even then a lingering hope 
that things might take a turn for the better if Lord 
Fitzwilliam were appointed Lord Lieutenant, instead 
of " that vile W." 

" As to Politics," says a letter of Lady Sarah Napier's to 
Lady Sophia, " I think Mr. Conolly less black than usual, 
though equally croaking, and I made him confess that he 
saw things better, when in better health. However, he 
still adheres to the following plan in which your brother 
Edward joins him most steadily. If Lord Fitz William 
comes to execute new measures, and that they really tend to 
the good of Ireland, they both love him so much they long 
to support him ; but if it is the same measures, they will not. 
Nobody guesses at the future form of government here, for 
it is all so much in the balance who is to govern, and what 
is to be done, nobody can form an opinion. Dear Louisa 
still expects the French and to be guillotined, because 
Paddy, and Larry and Derby will tell the French, ' Kilt dat 
man for he's rich, kilt dat woman for she has lands — destroy 
all dat family for they are no good and they are quality/ — 
and so she thinks the French will implicitly destroy all they 
are bid to do. Conolly assures me he has proofs (and I own 
they are frightful) of the common people above the mere 
mob trying to seduce the Soldiers to teach them the use of 
arms and to join them, and all longing for the French to 
come. He is (with reason) very anxious to support the 
Militia, and form it into a useful body for internal defence 
as all regulars are taken away." 



On January 4, 1795, after a protracted Party- 
struggle between the Whig Ministers and Pitt (who 
"like most English statesmen/' says Mr. Lecky, 
" had a very slight and imperfect knowledge of Irish 
affairs, could give them but a small share of his 
attention "), Lord Fitzwilliam arrived in Ireland, 
hailed by almost the whole country as the long- 
expected deliverer, the Caesar Augustus who was to 
restore the Golden Age, to disinter it perhaps from 
the peat bogs where it lay buried along with the elk 
and other prehistoric remains. He came, determined 
to put an end to injustice — and the Beresfords : he 
saw on all hands a popular disaffection expressed by 
daily acts of violence ; he saw " a shameful want of 
protection for the lower orders, a partial and harsh 
measure of law," a Roman Catholic populace suffering 
under cruel and absurd disabilities, an open system 
of Parliamentary corruption, an army of place- 
seeking permanent officials, — and the Beresfords. 
He came, and he saw, and he was conquered — by 
the Beresfords, — a family " whose dependants and 
connections held at least a fourth of the places in 
the island," and were left, even after the dismissal 


90 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

by Lord Fitzwilliam of their chief (commonly called 
the King of Ireland), " in full enjoyment of more 
emoluments than ever were accumulated in any 
country upon any one family." 

As it seems to me clear that Lord Fitzwilliam's 
recall was the immediate cause of Lord Edward's 
revolt, I must give a short account of the business, 
— the spark which the English Government set to 
the train of rebellion which, as they were assured on 
all hands, was laid ready for the explosion. As far 
as possible I shall use the words of Mr. Lecky, whose 
impartiality and knowledge and research make him 
the final authority on the subject. 

Almost at the moment of his arrival in Ireland, 
Lord Fitzwilliam wrote to the Ministers in England 
and told them " that the Catholic question had in 
his opinion become one of the most urgent and vital 
importance, that it was impossible to defer its solu- 
tion without extreme danger to the country, and 
that if he did not receive peremptory instructions to 
the contrary within a week he would acquiesce in 
the Catholic Claims." He received no instructions 
to the contrary, peremptory or otherwise, for more 
than three weeks, and arguing that ministerial 
silence implied ministerial consent, he allowed a Bill 
to be brought in " for a general repeal of all restric- 
tive and disqualifying laws," so that " the hopes of 
the Catholics were excited to the highest point." 
He had "little doubt that the Catholic business 
would be carried easily, and that there was no serious 
obstacle to be encountered in the Irish Parliament, 
or from the Irish Protestants." On February the 

The Eve of Rebellion 


18th he received orders to prevent any further pro- 
ceedings being taken on the Bill till the King's 
pleasure was signified, and on February the 23rd, 
when he had been fifty days Lord Lieutenant, John 
Beresford had his revenge, and Lord Fitzwilliam 
was recalled. " Let my friends no longer suffer the 
Catholic question to be mentioned," he wrote, " as 
entering in the most distant degree into the question 
of my recall. Had Mr. Beresford never been dis- 
missed, I should have remained." "Never," says 
Mr. Lecky, " at any other period of Irish history had 
the recall of a Lord Lieutenant struck such con- 
sternation through the country . . . the twenty-fifth 
of March, when he sailed for England, was one of 
the saddest days ever known in Ireland. The shops 
of Dublin were shut. All business was suspended. 
Signs of mourning were exhibited on every side. 
The coach of the Lord Lieutenant was drawn by 
some of the most respectable citizens to the water 
side, and the shadow of coming calamity cast its 
gloom upon every countenance. It was indeed but 
too well justified. From that time the spirit of 
sullen and violent disloyalty overspread the land, 
' creeping,' in the words of Grattan, 1 like the mist 
at the heels of the countryman.' " 

One or two further extracts from Mr. Lecky's 
history must suffice to complete this brief picture 
of the final causes of the Rebellion. 

"On the day," he writes, "when the English 
Government disavowed the acts of its Irish represen- 
tatives, recalled Lord Fitzwilliam and again brought 
to the helm the most virulent opponents of the 

92 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

Catholics, a cloud seemed to fall on the spirit of the 
nation which has never been removed." 

"Henceforward the Government speakers never 
attempted to deny the assertion of their opponents 
that the Government were steering their bark 
through corruption, through revived religious ani- 
mosities, through almost certain rebellion, towards 
a legislative union." 

" The faults of Irish Government during the 
few years before the rebellion of 1798 appear to 
me to have been enormously great, and a weight 
of tremendous responsibility rests upon those who 
conducted it." 

" No candid man can, I think, deny that acts of 
illegal, criminal, shameful, and exasperating violence 
were at this time committed in Ireland with the 
full sanction of the Government ; but it seems to me 
equally impossible to deny that a conspiracy existed 
with which ordinary law was utterly unable to cope. 
. . . Grattan, however, made no allowance for the 
enormous difficulties of the situation, and massed 
together the whole system of ' Coercion ' in an equal 
and undiscriminating condemnation. He was not 
content with denouncing the imprisonment of the 
middle orders without law, the detaining them in 
prison without bringing them to trial, the trans- 
porting them without law, burning their houses, 
burning their villages, murdering them . . . pre- 
venting the legal meeting of Counties to petition 
His Majesty . . . and, finally, the introduction of 
practices not only unknown to law, but unknown 
to civilised and Christian countries. The Conven- 

The Eve of Rebellion 


tion Act, the Gunpowder Act, the Insurrection Act, 
the Suspension of the Habeas Corpus, the proclama- 
tion of General Lake for disarming the people, were 
all equally condemned." 

I have quoted this last paragraph here, although 
it refers mainly to events which took place at a later 
period in Lord Edward's life, partly because of the 
idea it gives of the dreadful sequel to the previous 
acts of Government, and partly because it shows 
how even Grattan (and still more Lord Edward), 
once the Rubicon was crossed, did no doubt fail to 
realise the difficulties of the position in which 
Government had placed themselves. They did 
confound acts which were absolutely necessary for 
the preservation of order, and the retention of 
Ireland, with acts of "illegal, criminal, shameful, 
and exasperating violence." But the recall of Lord 
Fitzwilliam had brought Lord Edward to the point 
of despair. " All Justice, such he was for his 
country," wrote Lady Lucy. Who shall blame him 
if he was forced by that most discreditable and heart- 
less trick of Party Politics to believe that it was 
impossible to have any further hope of justice — for 
his country — at the hands of the men who had 
preferred Beresford to Fitzwilliam ? 

For the rest of the year 1795 he does not appear 
to have taken any active part in politics : it was 
perhaps a final period of reflection during which he 
counted the cost of the terrible future. "Whose was 
the responsibility, if after nine months of considera- 
tion of what it would all mean, — the inevitable 
horrors and bloodshed of a civil war, the separation 

94 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

between himself and those he loved, the pain that 
he must cause to the aching heart of his mother, — 
he finally resolved to join the ranks of the United 
Irishmen, and throw himself heart and soul into 
their cause? Was it Lord Edward the Eebel or 
Lord Camden the Lord Lieutenant, and all that he 
represented, who was weighed in the balance and 
found wanting ? 



Events have brought us to the point when Lord 
Edward was about to enter upon the wild and 
stormy close of his short career. On the threshold 
we may pause for a moment to consider her who, 
during those dark days, stood closer to him than 
anyone in all the world. It is a pathetic little 
figure. It was not enough that her husband should 
be taken from her before he had reached the prime 
of life, when she was still a mere girl, — it remained 
that she should be branded as the chief cause of 
his ruin. It was not enough that she was pre- 
vented at the last from going down with him to 
the gates of death, — rumour had still to declare 
that, of her own free will, she left him in his hour 
of need. The second of these calumnies will be 
dealt with in its proper place. As regards the 
first, the strongest refutation that I know of is con- 
tained in a letter from Lady Louisa Conolly to 
the Duke of Richmond, which, however, as it refers 
mainly to later events, need not be taken from its 
proper context. For the present, the following con- 
tradiction from the pen of Lady Campbell will be 
sufficient : 


96 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

" My Grandmother and Aunts and the Leitrims all told 
me that my mother was most unfairly thought to have led 
my Father into the Kebellion, which confirms my own 
opinion. She had seen too much of the French Eevolution. 
She was married just as they were emigrating, flying in 
fear, and leaving their friends in danger of being guillotined, 
all their property gone. She had a perfect horror of the 
Eevolution and of republican ideas. She constantly argued 
against them with Aunt Lucy, and entreated her not to 
excite my father. She begg'd Arthur O'Connor not to 
drive him on. All this Uncle Eichmond and the family 
knew ; but there was a prejudice against her as a French- 
woman and a pupil of Me. de Genlis, and my Father was so 
generally popular, people preferred laying the blame on 
her, — whereas my Father had got his republican ideas in 
America, and on his return they were fostered by Charles 
Fox and Mr. Sheridan, Whom he lived with in great 
intimacy at that time." 

" There was a prejudice against her." That 
expression is a fair statement of the situation. 
Lord Edward was universally beloved and respected. 
Someone had to be made a scapegoat for his un- 
compromising defiance of the beneficent rule of 
England, and, naturally enough, the wiseacres 
pitched upon his wife. Who but she could have 
instilled these pernicious French doctrines into his 
loyal Irish heart? Yet, witness his daughter and 
his aunt, the very opposite was the case. She 
begged and entreated the two people who had most 
influence with him not to drive him on : she went 
on her knees to Lord Edward himself to ask him 
to give it all up and go abroad. But he broke 
away from her, saying that it was too late, that he 

The Real Pamela 


had led others into danger and must share it with 

Her own letters, though they are of necessity 
negative evidence, entirely support this account of 
her conduct. For example, they contain at one 
time frequent references to the expected invasion 
of Ireland by the French. She herself was French 
an fond de Fame, and the wife of the man who was 
largely responsible for their attempted interference 
in Irish affairs. And yet to all appearance she was 
as much alarmed as any Castle lady at the prospect 
of their arrival, and as much relieved at their de- 
parture. This tone of apprehension, or at least of 
indifference, was probably due partly to a real dread 
of the consequences of their landing (a feeling which, 
in later days, Lord Edward shared), partly to a 
fear of putting on paper anything that might seem 
to implicate her husband in the promotion of the 
threatened invasion. The idea that she was kept 
in ignorance of Lord Edward's designs is not tenable. 
She could not have lived at Frescati and Kildare 
Lodge with him, when they were the almost daily 
rendezvous of his political associates, without being- 
acquainted with the purpose of his life. It was 
possible and proper for Lord Edward to leave his 
mother in the dark. It was impossible, and, in any 
case, would have been unkind and perilous to their 
domestic happiness, to have treated his wife in the 
same way. Moreover, Lady Edward was too true 
and too loving a wife to have consented to the piti- 
ful travesty of mutual confidence which such an 
arrangement would have implied. She was discreet 

98 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

enough to hide from the world her knowledge of his 
schemes, loyal enough to refrain from putting on 
paper a single syllable of criticism, however much 
she may have argued on the subject with himself 
and the two other members of their partie-carrde. 
But through all her letters there runs a tone of 
sadness, of premonitions that they were hurrying 
to the edge of a dreadful abyss, which clearly shows 
that she knew what was being done, and dreaded 
the consequences. Afterwards, when the blow had 
fallen, when he was being day by day tracked by 
his pursuers, she was to outward appearance calm, 
collected, brave, confident, even after he had been 
captured, of his eventual triumph. Now, in the 
period of suspense, she was fearful, timid, awed by 
the shadow of the future, torn by the conflicting 
feelings of anxiety for the fate and sympathy with 
the aspirations of the man she loved. 

Of mere facts the letters which she wrote at this 
time are barren, being mostly variations on one un- 
changing theme, her love for her husband, for her 
children, for the dear family, particularly Lady Lucy, 
and for Arthur O'Connor. But, though politically 
unimportant, they are quaint, pretty letters, and 
no language could express so truly as the old- 
style French in which they are written the tender, 
melancholy, loving heart of the writer. The occa- 
sional characteristic scraps of broken English, with 
which she as it were emphasises her affection, are 
rendered here by italics when the originals are 

Just before the first baby was born, her aunt, 

The Real Pamela 


Lady Sarah Napier, gives a pretty account of the 
young wife. 

"Pamela," she says, "is like a ball, and she wears an 
Indian bed-gown, Eddy calls it, which is no more than a 
Maid's night bed-gown, and makes her look so large, so 
loose, so odd, that I think a man would laugh at the 
immense size, and a Cloak woidd not be amiss. But her 
looks are excellent. She has made with her own fingers, 
the most perfect pretty set of Child's linen you ever saw. 
So my sister must never accuse her of not finishing work, 
for it is parfait — she intends to have no maid to attend the 
child, in fact the passion with which she becomes a mother 
and Xurse is an excellent passion for a young wife to take, 
and if carried to extremes can never do harm ; it's better 
than a gaming table or driving or hunting. Edward is as 
fat as a pig, and so contented and pleased it would do my 
sister's heart good to see him." 

A few days afterwards Lady Edward writes her- 
self to Lady Sophia, and indignantly repudiates the 
idea that her coming child should be called by 
names belonging to her supposed mother's family. 

" II veaux mieux tard que jamais, n'est ce pas, Chere 
Sophy ? mais je vous dirais, avec verite et non pour 
m'excuser, que dans le terns ou j'ai recue votre Bonne 
Aimable lettre, j'avois de si viollants meaux de tete que je 
ne pouvois meme voir pour travailler a la laiette de mon 
cher petit Enfant, mais une saigne m'a Absolument gairie, 
et je me porte aussi bien qu'il est possible. La chere 
petite Creature remue quelquefoix si fort qu'il me fait MaL 
Je vous pris de dire aux dear Gerls que je suis tout a fait 
affront e qu'elles appellent mon Petit St. Fav et Ducrest. 1 

1 The first of these two names I have not been able to identify ; 
the second was one of the many names of Me. de Genlis. 

100 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

J'ai peur que cela ne lui porte Malheur ; mais elles seront 
bien attrapees lorsque je leurs presenterai un Cher Petit 
Eddy, avec de grands yeux Bleus. Oh ! Sophie quel Doux 
moment pour moi, lorsque je presenterai a la Ghdre Adorable 
Grande Maman L'Enfant de son Cher Edward. Les larmes 
m'en vient aux yeux d'avance. Et mes Cheres Soeurs, 
comme je les embrasserai. Pauvre Pamela oublira pour un 
terns les Malheurs — Je suis sure que vous etes bien heureuse 
d'etre a Jolie Boyle Farm avec la chere Maman; nous 
Parlons, Eddy et moi, sans cesse de cette chere famille : 
nous sommes sans cesse avec elle. Nous voyons la chere 
Maman toujours si Acharnee a son livre, et nous disons, 
God bless her. Les larmes nous vient aux yeux. Vous 
pouvez bien comprendre cela, chere Sophy, vous qui avez 
quitte la chere Mere. J'aime beaucoup Kildare; nous 
sommes heureux depuis le Matin jusqu'aux soir. Nous nous 
promenons beaucoup, et les Promenades et les Eoutes sont 
Charmants. Eddy me lis beaucoup tout haut pendant que je 
travaille a la laiette que vous donnez a votre petit neveux, 
ou niece. Je vous aime trop pour vous l'avoir refuse^ mais 
en v£rite\ chere bonne Sophy, cela est trop. Ecrivez moi 
toujours, car j'aime a savoir des nouvelles des habitans de 
cher Boyle Earm, et meme de Londres. Loves a la chere 
Mere et a Mr. 0. : et aux cheres Soeurs. Adieu, chere 
Sophie, Ne doutez jamais de ma tendresse. Eddy vous 
embrasse et me charge de vous dire qu'il vous eUve un 

In due time the baby was born, and was, as his 
mother had hoped, a little Eddy. To judge from 
the following scrap taken from a letter to Lady Lucy 
(to whom all the others of this period and this 
chapter are addressed), he was a hardy youngster 
from the first, taking his cold tub of a morning like 
a man ; and Lady Edward must have been rather 

The Real Pamela 


more advanced than most mothers of her time in her 
ideas of what was good for little children. 

" Dear little boy se porte a raerveille : il est le plus 
airuable petit Enfant que je connoisse ; je suis sur que vous 
l'airuerez, car il resemble a notre Edward, mais pas autant 
que je le voudrois ; il est toute la journee a l'air et se begne 
tous les matins dans de l'eau froide : aussi il a un sante 
parfaite. Aimez-moi toujours, et croyez que si ma main est 
une vilaine paresseuse, mon Cceur ne Test pas. 

Eeport says that the French have landed, but we 
think it is a betise, but we see to-day by the strong measures 
which Government is taking that there is some truth in it. 
Kildare is filled with troops (800 men), who are on their 
way to Cork. I should much like to know the truth. As 
for what Mr. Fox has said, we are not astonished at it, and 
I almost believe that the Government think the same. If 
the French have not come we hope to make our little 
journey in the North. Edward is going to Carton to- 
morrow for the news. He will see you ; how I envy him ! 
We love you more than ever. Dear Edward says that you 
are a fine minded girl. 

Nona Bommefl hi warm water. Xous n'avons aucunes 
nouvelles : La poste n'est pas venu a Elildare aujourd'hui, ce 
qui est fort singulier. 

Vous me feriez im bien grand Plaisir de me faire copier 
lair Ca ira, le Eeveille du Peuple, la Carmagnole et l'lmne 
des Marceillois. Je suppose que si Mr. Trench voyait ma 
lettre et mes demandes, il fremiroit d'horreur for our big 

Not, as it seems, very big treason for the wife of 
a rebel leader ; disappointing stuff for any post-office 
official whose duty it might be to examine this sup- 

102 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

posed dangerous correspondence. But the fact is 
that during these years Lady Edward was too busy 
with her duties as a mother to have much to do 
with treason. The second child was a girl, a little 

" Oh my angel, I must write and tell you that I and 
my darling Pammy are well, and Edward too : at this 
moment he is asleep on the big sofa. You see he doesn't 
lose his ' good habits.' I want to wake him to frank this 
letter, but I haven't the heart to do it." 

At the beginning of 1797 there is another casual 
reference to the French invaders : 

" My Edward is always the same, that is to say adorable. 
How I long to have you altogether ; Eddy and I say, Oh, 
mon Dieu, if Lucia were here. Edward has gone to see his 
picture. He and I are in assez good sperits. I saw dear 
sister Bellamont, who is very fidgetty because her girls have 
left school and come to Dublin. Poor woman, I pity her. 

There is nothing new except that 9 Erench ships have 
come into Bantry Bay and that there are several very 
much damaged in the Shannon. But there is so much 
news, and so many false reports one don't know what to 

Je vais vous donner les nouvelles, qui sont : The 
French have sailed off, both from Bantry and the Shannon. 
They had taken provisions from the latter place and paid for 
it. It is generally thought here that they have sailed for 
Brest. 1 Ainsi nous voila tranquilles pour le moment. 

1 As I have already said, Lady Edward's letters are all written in 
French, though I have thought it advisable to translate some of the 
extracts which I have given here. This particular sentence is, so far 
as I know, the longest that she ever wrote in her husband's language ; 
a circumstance which, taken in connection with the fact that it is 

The Real Pamela 


With great regret I must give you an account of my 
day yesterday, and I will give you a hundred guesses as to 
what effect my despair had upon me. I blush, but still I 
must admit it. It is not at all Romantick. I vomited all 
my dinner, and I was as sick as an animal. Then I fainted, 
which was rather more correct, and consoles me for the 
burlesque turn which my chagrin took. I was going to 
write to you when my swoon and my sickness prevented 
me. It is true that directly after my dinner I began to read 
with my feet and head right in the fire, and Sophie pretends 
that it was the peat, and says ' that wretched fire is so 
pungent.' I am quite well to day, but sadly vexed not to 
have our beloved Quoituor any more. I have not had any 
letters from Hamburg. However, I must be sensible and 
resigned. The yeomen always gave me perfect joy. I 
laugh, but soon I long for Lucy, and cannot find her, and I 
say, Oh innocent pleasures, why have you forsaken us ? but 
it is in vain to recall them : as quickly as time they fly, and 
leave us nothing but regret. I need not tell you how happy 
your letter made me, for if you are sad I am sad too, and 
you know that when one is sad the heart feels pains and 
pleasures more keenly. Friendship is the only human 
thing now to which I attach any value. All the rest 
appears to me to be folly. But the tender Friendship which 
my Lucy seems to bear me makes me very happy, and all 
the more because I never thought that she would love me. 
But now I count on her, and she will always be in my 
heart. My Lucy, do not think that you will ever get rid of 
me. No, no, I love you so much that you will henceforth 
be part of my Being, and everything that you feel, happi- 
ness or misfortime, will be shared by me. How happy I 
shall be when I see you : we shall go to Dublin to be to- 
expressed in good and properly spelt English, suggests the idea that 
it may have been actually dictated by Lord Edward, with the object 
of giving an appearance of non-complicity if it fell into the wrong 

104 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

gether ; but you must come here when you do come, for you 
know that here is your home. What a pity you didn't see 
dear Edward. He meant to speak to you about our party 
in the North. I still hope that we shall manage it: he 
wants it too, and so does Arthur. I love to distract myself, 
for to tell you the truth I fear to look at the future. The 
present is our only possession. It is happy, so let us take 
advantage of it. But, alas ! how short the present is, and I 
see the future, the heavy future, but covered with a thick 
veil. Kind nature has thus veiled it, to help us to endure 
life. For if we had not hope, how wretched our existence 
would be. You see, my dear friend, how sure I feel of your 
love, since I let my pen write all that my heart feels. I 
know all that passes in your heart : I know that you feel 
these troubles as I do. But sensible souls always think en 
noir. Let us put our trust in Providence, which is wiser 
than men. I am not sad oftener than others, but when 
sadness comes I feel it far more. Give my love to the dear 
sisters. I all love them in my heart. Come, and joy will 
come with you." 

The " party in the North," planned over and over 
again by the four friends, was postponed over and 
over again owing to Lady Lucy's ill-health, which 
took the form of what was then known as the bile. 
At last, as there seemed no prospect of its being 
realised, Lord Edward went to Belfast by himself, 
having addressed a final invocation to Lady Lucy in 
one of his wife's letters. 

" Lucia, when the Bile is gone, you and Pam are to set 
off, I will not take any excuse : no wisdom, no prudence, no 
reflection, no reason, no what will be said, in short no non- 
sence. Your wise Brother, E. F. High for the Giant's 
Causeway in all the horrors of Winter ! " 

While he was away, Lady Edward wrote once 

The Real Pamela 


more to her sister, happy in the prospect of soon 
seeing her and their friend Arthur O'Connor : 

" My tender friend. Here I am in dear, quiet, little, 
comfortable Kildare, very happy, for I have had a letter 
from Edward, from Belfast. He only wrote me 8 lines, but 
8 lines are much when he wanted to pay court to Beddon ; 
he was keenly inspired by his quite divine spirit Arthur 
is very well, and so happy to see dear Eddy. — Your tender 
P. 0. C. S. N. F. G. 1 (Urns mes noms). 

Edward is still enchanted with Belfast ; and don't tell 
me the day when he will come back, but it will be soon, for 
he is longing to see me. He says that our friend has 
promised to come with hini. So, my angel, we shall have 
our dear, beloved, amiable Quoituor once more. Altho' I 
make a part of the Quoituor, I don't want to scratch out 
the word amiable. I only say it for my three friends. We 
shall have once more our De'mocratique turf et WisJc, but we 
shall be very happy. I will tell you when he comes some 
days before he does, for, Milady, I shall be enchanted to 
have the honour of your Company." 

Eventually the meeting so long looked forward 
to did come off, but not till Lord Edward had 
delayed his coming for a short time more — which 
called forth a pathetic little lament from his wife : 

" Two days since that wretch E. has written to me. I 
am almost tempted to be very angry with him — I am more 
than tempted, I am angry. Oh, if one knew the pleasure 
that the poor hermit feels when she gets letters. She reads 
them, and re-reads them, folds them, opens them again, and 
would like to forget them, so as to taste again the pleasure 
she felt on opening them." 

1 Presumably these names were Pamela Orleans Caroline Stephanie 
Nancy FitzGerald 

"the beloved quoituor" 

Let us now return to the beginning of 1796, the 
time when Lord Edward joined the United Irishmen, 
which society had been lately remodelled on large 
lines for the avowed purpose of overthrowing the 
English Government. His opposition to the Insur- 
rection Act in February of this year may be looked 
upon as his last constitutional protest against the 
rule of injustice. " Nothing," he said, "will tran- 
quillise the country but the sincere endeavour of the 
Government to redress the grievances of the people. 
If that is done, the people will return to their allegi- 
ance ; if not, I fear that neither resolutions nor 
Bills will be of any avail." The Act was, of course, 
passed, and in May, Lord Edward, with his wife and 
Arthur O'Connor, went to Hamburgh (where they 
left Lady Edward) and thence to Basle, to arrange 
with the Directory for the assistance of a French 
fleet and army. 

On their way through London, Lady Edward 
made an effort to persuade her husband to give up 
the intended expedition. "My Mother told me," 
writes Lady Campbell, " that when they were going 
to Hamburgh in 1796 she supped at Devonshire 


"The Beloved Quoituor" 107 

House, and the Duke of York took her in to supper, 
and, speaking kindly about my father and regretting 
the course of politics, he at last said : 

' Allow me to advise you as a friend most 
seriously, use your influence, your whole influence, 
to deter Lord Edward from going abroad. More 
is known of the plans of those he thinks his Friends 
than you can imagine, in short/ he added, ' all is 

She tried on returning home to persuade him to 
give up Hamburgh, but she did not succeed, and 
early in May they sailed, ostensibly that my Mother 
might visit Me. de Genlis and her niece Henriette 
de Sersey, who had married Mr. Matthiessen, a Ham- 
burgh merchant, but in reality, I fear, to meet Hoche 
or Pichegru, the French Kepublican Generals." 

As the result of these negotiations (which were 
afterwards completed by Wolfe Tone), the French 
fleet sailed for Ireland in December, though even 
at the beginning of September apprehensions were 
entertained in England as to its arrival. The refer- 
ences of Lady Lucy to these alarms are evidence 
that she followed the same non-committal policy as 
Lady Edward, and carefully avoided betraying any 
knowledge of her brother's plans. But a letter which 
Lord Edward wrote to his mother from Hamburgh, 
dated July 29, on his return from his apparently 
innocent journey to Basle, shows that he still pre- 
served his policy of keeping her at all events in 
ignorance of his plans : 

" My dearest Mother," he writes, " I returned here two 
days ago and found my little wife and child delightfully 

108 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

both improved in their looks, and my sweet Pam overjoy'd 
to see me. I was as happy as possible. I have been this 
morning reading over all your dear letters : how kind, my 
dearest Mother. What a piece of work my poor little itchy 
Edward has made. What a Debut : as for him I am not 
very uneasy, for I don't consider it dangerous, but am vex'd 
at all the trouble it has given you ; but by your last I see it 
is now all over. I had a very pleasant Tour, am in raptures 
with Switzerland. I left my Friend O'Connor in Switzer- 
land taking another Tour. There never were two persons 
who more thoroughly admired Switzerland than we did. 
We saw it with the true Eousseau enthusiasm: He is as 
fond of Eousseau as I am, so you may conceive how we 
enjoyed our journey. He entered completely into my way of 
travelling, which was walking most of the way, getting into 
a Boat when we could, taking our dinner in some pretty 
spot, and swimming when we could. In fact we agreed in 
everything, and if it had not been to come home I should 
have been very sorry to leave him. I returned in a 
Dilligence, by way of Schaffhouse, Ausbourg, Nuremburg, 
Brunswick, and the journey was troublesome enough as to 
the Body, but that you know I don't mind. I was ten days 
going, night and day, but the days being long it was not so 
tiresome, besides I was an outside passenger the whole way, 
which, tho' I got a little wet now and then, made the journey 
pleasant enough. I will tell you more when we meet. 
My sweet Pam wants me to walk so, and the post goes out 
soon, so bless my sweet Mother. Love to all. I shall see 
you now in 3 weeks. God, how happy I shall be. Kiss 
my dear Boy. How I miss its clear Pace. — Ever yr. aff. 

E. P." 

On August 29 he wrote again from Hamburgh : 

" My Drst. Mother, — We leave this on Thursday next 
the 1st of September, and I hope by the 6th to be with you. 
We go straight to London. You will be kind enough if 

"The Beloved Quoituor" 


not inconvenient to let us sleep at Harley St. the night of 
the day we land, as perhaps it will be too late to go to you : 
or if you can not, perhaps we can go to Stratford Place — any- 
how we will go to your house for directions. I need not say 
how happy I shall be. I got your letter of the 15th yester- 
day. What a pleasant account you give of my Eddy. The 
little dog: how I long to see it. I like your account of 
Ealing, and look forward with pleasure to the time we shall 
spend together. I shall enjoy leading the Malvern life, and 
I shall have double satisfaction, as my Pam has had also 
her share of pleasure with her friends here. She is quite 
reasonable (as she always is), and will bear the parting very 
well ; and so is Me. Genlis, who, as she knows we must go, 
wants us to go directly, before the weather changes. My 
little girl will bear the journey well for it is always sleeping 
and never cries. . . . Pam joins in love to all. She 
will take care of your commissions. God bless dearest 
Mother. Soon I shall see you. E. F." 

The following month he spent in England, and 
then sailed for Ireland ; taking with him the two 
Pamelas, but leaving little Eddy behind with his 
mother. He wrote a short note from Chester on his 
way to Parkgate : 

" Dearest Mother, — We got here yesterday all well : 
The Wind is not yet fair but promises to be better to- 
morrow when we go to Parkgate. I need not tell you my 
journey was a little melancholy, but I endeavour'd to drive 
all distressing thoughts from me ; how I like your account 
of Norbury and enjoy my little Edward's present. I think 
I see his delight. It will save your mechanical genius at 
cutting out horses, and give you some rest. Pray tell Dear 
Ciss I was sorry it was not in my power to see her, sweet 
love. ... I don't repent leaving Eddy as I am sure it is 
a comfort to my beloved Mother, and I hate to think that 

110 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

by my own absence I have given her so much distress, but 
no more of this; believe me, dearest Mother, you are truly 
lov'd and respected by me." 

On the back of the letter is a note in Lady 
Edward's handwriting : 

" Comme notre Etourdi Edouard a oublie de give you my 
beth loves, et mille baisers a mon cher Enfant, je prends la 
plume de ses grosses Pattes pour vous dire encore combien 
je vous aime, et que je suis sur que maintenant vous n'en 
doutez pas, car mon cher Petit Dood Poy est le gage le plus 
sur que je puisse vous donner de tendresse et d'estime. Je 
ne puis voir un enfant de l'age de mon Eddy sans un batte- 
ment de coeur, mais bien vite je pense a votre Bonheur, et 
je suis consoled." 

About a fortnight later Lady Lucy followed them 
to Ireland, intending to stay with the Conollys at 
Castletown and with her brother the Duke at Carton. 
She also paid one or two visits to Dublin, and stayed 
some time with Lord and Lady Edward at Kildare 
and Frescati, and the following extracts from her 
journal, during the last three months of '96 and the 
first five of '97, give an insight into their life at this 
time, when Lord Edward's companions ranged from 
Lord Castlereagh and Lord Clare to The Apothecary 
and the Butcher's daughters and Democrats from 
the North. 

Lady Lucy's Jouenal, Oct. 1796 to May 1797. 

" Castletown, Oct. 23. — I feel so happy to be at dear Castle- 
town. It so reminds me of the Days of my Childhood. 
The Edwards came, and the Castlereaghs and Papa. He 

"The Beloved Quoituor" 111 

and I made it up. Aunt Louisa and I went to Carton in 
the morning. 

Oct. 29. — Edward and I walked to Carton, and saw Lord 
Clare. We had an amazing snug chat as we went on our 

Carton, Nov. 20. — We were a delightful party. Ly. 
Edward was there the whole time and Ed. backwards and 
forwards : we had beautiful dancing, and such a Ballet 
call'd Didone. Ly. Ed. composed it mostly, I selected the 

Nov. 21. — I went to town. Mr. Ogilvie gave us a 
snack at Leinster House. Ly. Ed. came to town too. Mr. 
O'Connor came to see her, but we did not see him, as Mr. 
Ogilvie would not invite him in. 

Nov. 27. — Ly. Ed. and I left Carton and came to Kildare, 
where we found Mr. O'Connor and Edward. Nothing can 
be more comfortable than this little habitation. Mr. 
O'Connor read us the play of Julius Ccesar. 

Nov. 28. — We walk'd upon the Curragh, a walk of ten 
miles to see Mr. Daly's Lodge. There came a piper in the 
evening and we danced jigs. 

Nov. 29. — We rode : Edward and I kept together, and 
Pamela and Mr. O'Connor. They talk together for hours, 
mostly about Mrs. Mathiessen. 1 

Nov. 30. — The Apothecary dined with us, as he is a 
great democrate. We danced in the evening and had 
quite a ball; we made up 7 couple calling in servants 
and maids. 

Dec. 1. — A very bad day ; we staid at home almost all 
the morning. Mr. O'Connor, Pamela, and I had such fun 
making me a pocket-book in which they stuck emblems. 

Dec. 2. — Two men came from town, both great Demo- 
crates and very agreeable men. We spent a delightful 
afternoon, divided between dancing and singing patriotic 

1 A niece of Me. de Genlis with whom Lady Edward afterwards 
lived at Hamburgh. 

112 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

songs and the most interesting conversation ; we sat up till 
two o'clock. We had the Apothecary Cummins, who we 
delight in. 

Dec. 3. — We rode : Edward went to bed early in the 
dancing-room where we sat, and Arthur, Pamela, and I had 
a conversation I never shall forget. I never heard anything 
of the kind before. I was very much amused and interested, 
lost in admiration of such superior talents, but not convinced, 
and grieved to Tears at such a mind supposing itself 

Dec. 4. — Ed. very angry with us for sitting up ; he and 
Mr. O'Connor set off on a Tour. Pamela and I very sorry. 
How I love this place. U y a des lieux qu'on admire : il y 
en a d'autres qui touchent. 

Dec. 11. — At 3 o'clock they came home to our great joy : 
gave us an account of their reception at the King of 
Connaught's. His name is O'Connor also, so he address'd 
them: 'Arthur O'Connor, you are welcome. House of 
Leinster, I am proud to see you within my doors/ 

Dec. 13. — We had a dance in the evening. Our Company 
was Cummins and the Butcher's daughters. I danced with 
Arthur. We danced a great many Irish jigs. Eel. is a 
famous hand at them. 

Dec. 14. — We read Volny's Ruins. Arthur shock'd me 
by a thing he said ; he is so odd one must not judge him by 
other people. 

Dec. 15. — We had a Visit from Lord and Lady Castle- 
reagh that disturb'd our comfort. They told us Henriette 
was ill, and that I was expected to return with the horses 
that brought them. Ed. and Arthur then settled to go to 
Town. Ed. was going before to take leave of Mr. Ogilvie, 
but the other would have staid with us. 

Christmas Day. — Alarm of the French being off the 
coast of Ireland. Troops marching, all in consternation 
about the French. They have been trying to work into 
Bantry Bay. 

' The Beloved Quoituor " 


Dec. 28. — Dear Eddy carne over from Kildare. I never 
saw him with such pleasure. Heaven protect him. 

Dec. 29. — Eddy went to Town. Account of a French 
prisoner brought from Bantry. He was thrown on the 
coast by the storm. 

Dec. 30. — Account of the French having left Bantry 

Dec. 31. — An account received in the evening of the 
French fleet being compleatly destroyed by Admiral Colpoys 
and Ld. Bradford. All in wild transports. 

Castletown, Jan. 1, 1797. — The news of the defeat of the 
French fleet was perfectly unfounded. I did not believe it 
at the time. 

Jan. 2. — I was not well and spent most of the day 
upstairs. Still in alarms about the Family. Aunt Sarah 
and Donny came from town. He has quarrell'd with Lord 
Carhampton, who was going to employ him. Aunt Sarah 
took me apart to talk of very unpleasant subjects : made 
me low, indeed I am wretchedly so. 

Jan. 3. — I hear every day from Dear Pamela, who is in 
Town with Edward. I wish I could have been with them 
at this moment, but besides wishing to fulfil my promise of 
being with Henrietta I have been too unwell to move, from 
a billions attack. 

Jan. 4. — They think the French are leaving Bantry Bay 
and the mouth of the Shannon. Admiral Colpoys is off 
Ushant instead of the coast of Ireland. The alarm of the 
French seems over for the present. 

Jan. 6. — Had a letter from Eddy. He is going to 
Belfast to Arthur, who is ill. He desires me to be ready 
for the Giant's Causeway in all the horrors of Winter. 
Pamela is for prudence and no Giant's Causeway, I don't 
exactly make out why. 

Jan. 10. — Pamela with me; talk'd over many things; 
both exceedingly provoked at some gossip that has pre- 
vented a charming scheme we had in view. 

114 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

Jan. 15. — Came to town. I was surpris'd tho' prepared 
for it at the martial appearance of Dublin. Nothing but 
troops moving. 

Jan. 19. — Charles came to see me, and frighten'd me 
about Edward, saying that Lord Camden had information 
against him, and that he must leave the country. I am 
constantly agitated with these kind of things, which quite 
distract me. Edward is at Belfast, which is the cause of 
all this. 

Jan. 21. — I got a letter from Edward saying that he is 
gone to Kildare, where I am to meet him to-morrow. 
Jan. 28. — All this week very ill. 

Jan. 31. — Eddy came to see me and chear'd me by his 
presence. I meant to have gone out airing, but could not 
get horses. We read Arthur O'Connor's address to the 
County of Antrim. It is glorious, but I think Government 
won't let it pass. 

Feb. 1. — Eddy and I very snug in the evening as I 
cannot go down, and Brother Leinster and him don't meet, 
so he comes incog, to see me upstairs. 

Feb. 3. — Eddy came to me before I was up, and told me 
that Arthur was just taken up that night. They had spent 
the evening together, and were going to-day to Kildare. It 
is for his Address, which they say is Treasonable. Eddy 
and I lamented together all Day. I never saw Eddy so 
unhappy. It is really too shocking. 

Feb. 12. — Saw poor Dear Arthur at the window of his 
Prison. He look'd very melancholy. We kiss'd our hands 
to each other. Mary was with me. After we went to the 
Frederick St. Hotel. Pamela was just come to Town. I 
staid and dined with them. We talk'd over our Friend : 
very sad." 

(At this time the following communication from 
Arthur O'Connor to Lady Lucy and Lady Edward 
was scribbled in pencil on the fly-leaves and margins 

"The Beloved Quoituor " 115 

of a copy of Thomson's Seasons, and passed out of 
his prison into their hands ; apparently his servant 
was allowed to carry books but not letters to and fro : 

" Feb. 14, 1797. — Ten thousand thanks to my ever 
dearest Pa for her little purse and to the dear good-hearted 
Lucy for her Eoyal Unction. I saw my dear beloved friend 
from my grated prison : alas ! she looked pale, she grieves 
for her friend. Do not then, dear friends, add to his misery 
by letting it prey upon your warm generous hearts. I can 
bear my own sufferings without a sigh, but the sight of you, 
my ever dear, dear friends, brings torrents from my eyes. 
Against oppression's galling hand my heart is adamant, but 
to you, my friends, it melts, softer than the softest. Let 
persecution do its worst, we yet will meet, and cruel absence 
shall but enhance the joys of meeting. Oh, dear friends, 
what pleasure would it be to have you even here. How- 
would it change this monotonous, lonesome, ever-reigning 
solitude into mere mist. The dear song, and the old dance, 
the conversation, the humble meal and the jug of native 
punch, accompanied with social friendship — shall we ever 
pass those days again ? I am becoming weaker and weaker 
every day from want of exercise, 1 and am now busy in- 
venting some way of taking much exercise in a small space. 
My poor faithful dog is in want of exercise : it watches 
every stir I take and sympathises with its master. What 
a work I shall have to get Lucy's ointment (according to 
directions) to the root of my thick hair. 

Dear sweet friends, adieu. God knows when I'll hear 
from you, but you shall be always with me. I send you my 
torn heart. 

1 When Arthur O'Connor was afterwards confined in 1801 in Fort 
George, he found the same difficulty about taking exercise, and Lady 
Lucy, who used frequently to write to him, advised him to try a 
skipping-rope. " I don't know what a skipping-rope is," he said in 
his answer, " but it must be good exercise ! " 

116 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

Feb. 16. — I cannot describe to you, my ever clear 
Friend, the sensations of my heart at seeing you go by in 
silent sorrow. In vain I search for the same wanton vigor 
in the accounts Mr. Williams gives of the Dungeons of 
Eobespierre. Brisot and his glorious fellow-sufferers were 
not immured in separate prisons. They were not shut in 
from every friend, every social intercourse. They had society 
to beguile the tedious hours of the prisoner, day after day. 
I envy them, but all vanishes when I look towards my 
ever dear friends. Then I feel sympathy with them. I rise, 
and a conscious honesty makes me laugh at the acrimony 
with which I am persecuted. I turn from these envenomed 
tyrants and bigots, and excluding every unkind thought I 
fill my soul with milk of human kindness and look for 
better days. Adieu. 

Kemember me, dear, dear, kind friends. I wish you 
would pay for the little wooden box and keep it for me 
safe. There is 11 guineas and 4/8 to pay: it is in Capel 

Feb. 17. — You may tell me how you all are in the book 
you send. Is calumny as virulent as I have supposed it is ? 
Tell R not to let his resentment for his brother's sufferings 
lead him to use any expression that can be taken advantage 
of. They would do it most gladly. He can't be too guarded 
in his conduct, tho' I know he will never do anything that 
could incur punishment if the laws were in force that 
protect, but, alas ! these have been repealed, and it would be 
grievous to me to think that any of my dear friends should 
be drag'd from their homes to the solitude of a dungeon. 
Caution my servant against talking, as otherwise this 
innocent intercourse will be stopp'd. When do you leave 
town ? Are you good economists ? Have you heard from 
any of our dear friends in England ? Ask Conoly, the 
Catholic priest, to give you or get you an estimate of the 
salaries paid at an average to the Catholic priests, and ask 
Dixon for a like calculation of the Presbyterians. Ask 

"The Beloved Ouoituor" 


Conoly if the Catholics have the same parishes as the 
Protestants, or whether the Protestants have not united 
many Parishes the Catholics have left separate. 

In reading over these scribbled pages I have no inclina- 
tion to send them. They have the appearance of de- 
spondency, and that would not be giving you, my ever 
dear friends, a just idea of the state of my mind. That 
uninterrupted solitude is irksome is certain, but I feel no 
difficulty in enduring not only that, but the worst that 
Tyranny dare offer. Be cheerful then, my beloved Friends.") 

Lady Lucy's Journal. 

" Feb. 28. — Account of the French having landed 2 
thousand men in Wales without arms, who of course were 
taken prisoners. They appear to be Chouans that the 
French wanted to get rid of. 

Mar. 6. — Account of the English fleet having beat the 
Spanish, tho' the latter was greatly superior in number. 

Mar. 3. — Went to Frescati. 

Mar. 9. — Two Northern Gentlemen dined with ns. 

Mar. 12. — Mr. Mansell dined with us. He is sent by 
Mr. Burdett to enquire about Arthur. There never was 
such a Friend as Mr. Burdett seems in all his conduct 
towards Arthur. We get letters every Day. Edward is 
called Faithful in them, Pamela Violctte, and I Good Heart, 
Lady C. F. the Saint, which name particularly amuses 
Edward. She comes often to Frescati to see Edward and 
Pamela : but it is iu secret so that I who don't love secrets 
don't appear, as I don't wish to me meter dans tout ca. She 
seems by all I hear to be a little of an Intriguante. 

Mar. 15. — Pamela and I walk'd a great deal. I clean' d 
the House. 

Mar. 17. — St. Patrick's Day. Edward dined in town 
with some citizens. 

Mar. 23. — We had a visit from Mr. Henry and Mr. 

118 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

Leeson. They are both Democrats. I gave Mr. Henry a 
green cravat, and Pamela Mr. Leeson, and we made them 
ride home in them : a green cravat is a sign of good 

Mar. 24. 1 — Edward went to town, did not return till the 
middle of the night. 

Mar. 30. — I was not well, took a Bath. 

Apl. 10. — We had a large patriotic dinner. McNevin, 
Conolly, Mr. Hughes (a Northern, and Edward says a very 
sensible man), a Mr. Jackson, an Iron Manufacturer, a Mr. 
Bond, a great merchant, one of the handsomest and most 
delightful men to all appearance that ever was, and a 
Presbyterian Clergyman called Barber, a venerable old man 
who had been forced by persecution to fly his Diocese where 
he had lived 30 years. 

Apl. 12. — We went to Castletown. We are a delightful 
family party. 

Apl. 18. — Went to town for a Ball at Lady Clare's. I 
had my hair turn'd close up, was reckon'd Democratic, and 
was not danced with. 

Apl. 28. — We talk'd over the news of the Day, which is 
Brother Leinster being turn'd out of his place and having 
given up his Eegiment. 

Apl. 30. — Came to town in the Evening. There was a 
funeral attended by 6 thousand United Irishmen which 
gave great alarm. 

1 On March 28, Lady Lucy received this letter from her half sister 
Cecilia Ogilvie : 

" My darling Lucia, — I enclose you a letter for Eddie which 
pray give him, and do, my love, write to me and let me know your 
private opinion about him. Brother L. has alarmed Mama most 
dreadfully, and I own I am not easy, but trust in his affection for 
the tenderest and best of Mothers, for his being prudent. For God's 
sake do all you can to make him aware how miserable he makes one 
whose life he ought in gratitude and duty to make happy. Pray, 
pray write to me honestly. Mama shan't see your letter. — Ever 
yours, Ciss." 


"The Beloved Quoituor" 119 

May 2. — The alarm excessive. The numbers of United 
Irishmen increasing every day. 

May 7. — Brother Leinster gone to the county Kildare 
to oppose the Proclaiming a part of it. Edward came to us 
late in the evening. 

May 10. — We had an alarm in the evening that Brother 
Leinster and Edward were both to be taken up. Brother 
Leinster had yesterday a most curious scene with Lord 
Carhampton, who is a wicked Madman. He scolded and 
stormed, said Brother Leinster was at the head of that 
gang of assassins the United Irish. He did him too much 
honour, for he is not one. 

May 21. — Came to town : saw Edward who proposed to 
me to take me over to England immediately. I consented, 
but with a heavy heart. I long to see Mama, but don't like 
leaving Ireland just now. 

May 22. — I sat for my picture. Eeturn'd to Somerset 
with Edward and Pamela on a Gingle. Duignan dined 
with us. He was very sorry at my going, and we took a 
sorry farewell. We embraced. Poor fellow, there is not 
a better heart nor a better Patriot. He was taken up that 
very night. 

May 23. — We went down to the Pigeon-House too late. 
Edward and I went in a boat in hopes of catching the 
Packet, and after being out in the Bay half the night came 
home to Pamela, at Leinster House, whom we found in bed. 

May 24. — My picture was finished. We saiTd in the 
evening, parted with dear Pam on the Quay. I was miser- 
ably low as I looked on this Dear but as yet unfortunate 
little Island. I felt a degree of painful anxiety as to its 
fate, as it will comprehend that of what I hold most dear. 
I sat on the Deck with Edward till 4 in the morning : it 
was a beautiful night." 



In this chapter I shall supplement Lady Lucys 
account of the last two months of '96 and the first 
five of '97, with a selection from the correspondence 
of the same period, beginning with some extracts 
from the Duchess of Leinster's letters to Lady Lucy 
(mainly of a domestic nature), and going on to 
others which are more political in their interest. 
Amongst these is a letter of Lord Edward's to his 
mother, which in a few lines illustrates the most 
prominent feature of his character, — his love for the 
associations and natural features of his home, the 
affection which bound him to those of his own blood, 
the importance which he always attached to effort as 
compared with mere success, and finally his attitude 
towards those whom he regarded as the oppressors 
of his country. This last is at this juncture of 
particular importance. The position of these poor 
Irish patriots was so desperate, they felt so keenly 
the misery of their fellow-countrymen, that they 
were little likely to remember the difficulties with 
which its rulers had to contend, or to contemplate 
the possibility of their being otherwise than wilfully 
unjust and oppressive. Their general attitude is 


Nearing the Crisis 121 

not unfairly illustrated by the somewhat emotional 
lines scribbled by O'Connor in his prison-cell. But 
this letter of Lord Edward's shows that he, on the 
very eve of the conflict, was ready to believe that 
the motives of the Castle party might after all be 
right in their own eyes. 

The first letter of the Duchess once more takes 
up the thread of the story at the point when Lord 
Edward, fresh from his Hamburgh expedition, had 
left his son, little Eddy, with his mother, and 
returned to Ireland, followed shortlv afterwards by 
Lady Lucy and Mr. Ogilvie. 

The Duchess of Leixster to Lady Lucy FitzGerald. 

" Oct. 13, 1796. — We finish this week here, and return 
to Ealing ; Sad and dismal it will appear after having had 
the Dear Edwards. Our time was short, but we enjoy'd it ; 
I don't know how I could have borne all this but for their 
kindness in leaving their precious Babe with me : was it 
not so good in them ? They adore it and delight in all its 
pretty ways, and yet to leave it behind out of downright 
good nature and affection to me was a sacrifice indeed. It 
looks so pretty upon the Green Hill among the sheep under 
my window. 

His Papa and Mamma will describe him to you, for 
they delighted in him, and I do think that their considera- 
tion for my comfort, their kindness and good nature on 
this occasion, is really beyond what the most Exigtantc 
friendship cou'd ever have expected or look'd for. In 
Edward nothing surprises me, Dear Angel ; he has always 
loved me in an uncommon degree from childhood, but in 
Pamela, Dear thing, it is really a proof of the most amiable 
disposition to make such a sacrifice, and she has made me 
love her more than I can say. Pray make them sensible 

122 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

that it was well bestow'd, for I do doat on it and it wou'd 
have broke my heart to have parted with it just at this 
time. The only drawback to my pleasure is the feel of 
having been selfish, which I hate, but I have moments of 
weakness and self-indulgence, and have suffer'd a good deal 
from disappointments and anxieties before I gave way to 
this temptation, which was thrown in my way with so good 
a grace that I cou'd not resist it, for they have persuaded 
me it gives them pleasure." 

" Oct. 20. — Your dear Papa (Mr. Ogilvie), for I will call 
him so, as I know how truly he deserves the appelation 
from his heart and feelings for you, says, ' I have a room 
ready for the Edwards, and shou'd have had one for Lady 
Lucy, but that I suppose she will chuse to go to Mrs. 
Trench's. I shall receive her very kindly when we meet, 
tho' I am certain it is very indifferent to her whether I do 
or not/ Is not this, Dear Lucy, more like a person hurt at 
imagined unkindness than like an angry one ? I hope you, 
my love, will have gone up kindly to him and will attend 
to him, and that I may hope for the very great happiness 
it will be to me to see you again on a comfortable footing. 
He mentions in another letter that if your intention was 
only to make a short visit he would wait a fortnight beyond 
his own time to see you safe home again, if you wish'd it, 
but I think they will not be easily prevail'd upon in Ireland 
to give you up so soon. If he proposes it and you refuse, I 
hope you will do it in the kindest manner, for manner, my 
love, is everything with him, and indeed with almost every 
Body ; don't be short and positive and decisive and refuse 
it plump, but enter into your inducements for staying 
longer in a little friendly tone. Do, Love, try these little 
ways; suppose they don't succeed you will still have the 
satisfaction of self -approbation and of having obliged nie" 

" Oct. 27. — No words, my sweet Lucy, can give you an 

Nearixg the Crisis 


Idea of the Heart-felt satisfaction I received yesterday 
Evening in reading these lines in Dear Papa's letter. 
' Dear Lucy and I have had an explanation which was 
followed by a reconciliation. It was impossible to see her 
with indifference ! The Situation was too painful ! I cou'd 
not stand it and gave her an opening which I must do her 
the Justice to say she readily seiz'd, and all was made up S 1 
Xever, my Dear Angel, did I feel more truly delighted : it 
left a pleasant, happy feel that I cannot describe, and I 
carried it to my pillow praying to God to bless you both 
and thanking him for this happy change. It is a Cloud 
removed, which I feel truly grateful for. How I do love 
you, my Angel, for conquering any little feel that might 
have kept you back from showing your real affection to 
Dear Papa ! By giving him a proof you loved him, all was 
done away, for it all originated in his thinking you had no 
affection for him : when I look back to this time two years 
and see him, Dear Soul, breaking his Heart about you, it 
is so comfortable to me to think you return it and that 
your two Dear Hearts are again united. I am quite sure 
now they will never be otherwise, which is such a satis- 
faction ! One that will help to soothe my last moments 
when they arrive." 

" Oct. 29. — Another letter from dear Papa full of such 
tender and kind expressions about you as quite delighted 
me. You have no Idea how his Dear Heart is relieved by 
this reconciliation. Keep it up, my Angel. He is an 
invaluable friend, believe me, and one who will stick to 
you thro' life, and in whose protection I shall feel so 
satisfied to leave you. Xever let little ways dishearten 
you. Believe in his Heart ! There you will ever find 
strong and warm affection. Ask Dear Eddy if he has not 
ever foimd it so, and yet there is nobody that I have known 
him half so angry with at times as with that Dearest of 
creatures. I hear of nothing in my letters but your good 

124 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

looks and your pretty looks. They all admire your Auburn 
hair so much, and think it such an improvement, which it 
certainly is. Your person and manner, Sarah tells me, is 
also thought delightful, and she says you will give all the 
young ones better ton than they had before. 

I am delighted that they are sensible of your value and 
want to keep you, for I see your Dear Company is not 
thrown away on them. I hope Dear Papa will see it as I 
do. I have written to him on the subject, and have 
repeated it in all my letters since. It wou'd indeed be 
vexatious to have any coolness now and I hope and trust 
this will not occasion it. Let me know his answer to you 
as soon as you can. If you have any conversation about it, 
my Love, let me recommend it to you always to hear all he 
has to say before you answer, and not to interrupt him, as 
I know that manner is particularly disagreeable to him, 
and indeed to every Body. One likes to have one's say out 
before it is answer'd. It is a fault I am conscious of having 
myself, and I warn you against it, for I have always found 
that anything one says in that way never does good, but 
ruffles the temper and indisposes the Person towards any 
conviction, so that I take great pains to break myself of it, 
and if not taken by surprise and off my guard I never do 
fall into this fault. I am just the same myself when I have 
anything to say, as you must often have experienced, and 
have often said dryly and angrily, Lucy, will you he so good 
as to hear me out, so that I know how to make allowance 
for others. And now, my sweet Girl, I have sermonised 
long enough, but I know you will take it as it is meant, and 
arising from the great desire of your continuing comfortable 
with this Dear Papa." 

" Nov. 12. — And so my sweet Lucy, you have had con- 
versations with that Angel Edward ! I can easily believe 
you might say many things that might have effect and do 
good, as it is a subject you have read a good deal about, 



consider'd well, and your own good strong judgement wou'd 
assist you, but it is difficult to combat enthusiasm. I too 
have seen the Dear precious drops fall down that Dear 
cheek, but that is when the Heart feels the distress of 
others. To work upon those feelings only makes him 
wretched but does not remove the prejudice ! Oh, 'tis sad, 
sad ! But my trust is in the Almighty hand who can avert 
all Evils, and who, if He permits them, has some gracious 
good end in view, tho' hidden from our eyes. 

Mrs. Pakenham will I think return in Spring, for we 
have no prospect of Peace I fear. As to Mr. Trench, I 
think he is too young a chaperon for so young a woman. 
All the world does not know he is your friend's husband, 
and a young man and woman seen on the road together is 
quite enough for a Malicious story. What would Mr. 
Fielding say I ' My sweet Lady Lucy, — she is young, and 
of course very innocent and unsuspecting, but I do wonder 
the Dear Duchess, who ought at her years to have more 
discretion, wou'd allow of it : it really is a shocking thing.' 
Well, but dear dearest Eddy you say will escort you. Is 
not that so like him ? 

I am sure you will write to me from Kildare. How I 
envy your being there. Pam is in such joy about it. She 
does delight in you, and says you are more comical and 
more agreeable than ever. You know what to say to them 
all, for you know what I feel — Little Eddy never sees me 
write but he thinks it is to Papa and Mama, and always 
says, 'Eddy dood Boy, Eddy happy Boy. Papa ride 
horseback, Mama dance,' which shows he remembers 

II Jan. 4, 1797. — Cecilia and Minnie talk of writing 
every Day, but I won't leave it to them to tell you my Love 
that I am quite stout about this Business ; thank God no 
horrors have as yet seiz'd my mind about it, and the little 
thinns you say contribute much to put it at ease. God send 

126 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

it may all blow over soon, for at best it is an anxious 
moment. Dear Louisa has never been the least alarm'd : 
She helps too to give me spirits on the subject." 

"Jan. 9. — It is very shocking to think that so many 
lives have been lost in this attempt. God send it may 
discourage any future one of the same nature. Be as easy 
as you can make yourself about me, for indeed I am 
wonderfully well and am even surprised at myself. I don't 
listen to any of the stories, and your Dear Papa contrives, 
I see, to have it as little talk'd about as possible before me. 
I see his kind intention and am grateful for it. If there is 
anything good I am sure to hear it." 

t • • • • • • • 

" Jan. 31. — Your dear letter was a Balm to my Heart 
in Every way, not only as it assured me you felt better ; 
but from what you say on a certain Subject. I had been 
very wretched some days in consequence of some letters, 
Charles's, the Duchess's and Mary's, all to the same 
purpose. Nothing could be kinder than their intention, 
nor more friendly than their hints, but they alarm'd me 
dreadfully. However a dear letter I got from the Dear 
Person themselves, and what you say, have remov'd it for 
the present, and takes a great load off my mind, thank 
God : Too sure I am, my dear Love, that it is anxiety that 
has affected you in this sad way : it is ever the case. Your 
dear Body participates the Distress of your Mind, and my 
Beloved Child has had not only her own but mine to bear 
up against: this has been too much for you, my Angel. 
But I hope you will soon cheer up, and with a heart more 
at ease enjoy the comfort and pleasure of being among so 
many dear friends, which had done you so much good till 
these two Events interrupted it, but like all others they 
were directed by the hand of providence, and our entire and 
thorough dependance on the Goodness of Heaven must 
make us submit, trust, and adore. 

Nearing the Crisis 127 

Don't venture to Leinster House till they have aired the 
room thoroughly for you. Desire the Housekeeper to sleep 
in your bed a week before you go, and even then send Betty 
Hale a Day before to bring you word how it feels. I had 
written very pressingly to Dear Edward to come at the 
time of my alarm about him, and still wish he wou'd. But 
now that my mind is so much easier, I can wait a little 
longer, if it is very inconvenient to him to come now, but I 
still hope he and dear Pam will come in Spring and bring 
you, my Dear Angel. 

Yes, that dear Lock so lately growing on Eddy's precious 
head is a very acceptable present. I have it in my Bosom, 
after dear little Eddy had kissed it a thousand times, 
1 Papa's Hair, Eddy's own Papa's Hair ! ' I really believe 
he understands it all, pretty Love." 

" Feb. 15. — Spring to my mind is never so sweet any- 
where as at Erescati : The Spring flowers peeping out every 
Day, the Birds and the little green Buds swelling in the 
Hedges, I used to think quite heavenly in the Season now 
coming on, which I hope you will enjoy with satisfaction in 
the Company of those Dear two Dear Creatures, Eddy and 
Pam, who doat on you and who are themselves such pleasant 
Company. As to him you know what my feels are and I 
believe yours resemble them. When with him it is next to 
impossible not to feel happy. Dear, Dear Angel. The 
little hit of him I enjoy here is my delight, charms away 
uneasy thoughts, raises my spirits, and is truly the comfort 
and joy of my Old Age. 

Your Sister Bellamont told me you were lovely when 
dress'd for the Ball. I am glad your nakedness extended 
no further than your pretty white Pole, as it might have 
given you cold to have bared your Dr. Bosom : the idea of 
the indecency of showing the back of one's neck is beyond 

Think of that tiresome P. of W. inviting himself to dine 

128 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

here with Louisa to talk over Irish Politics : what a fuss 
and trouble it will make in the good family : he professes 
himself most warmly interested about Ireland, which he 
says has been mismanaged. He blames the conduct of 
Ministers in this particular, and I see is very anxious to 
have these sentiments known in that Country, for which 
purpose he butters Louisa up finely." 

" Mar. 17. — Pray send another fresh Lock from Dear 
Eddy's Head, for I have dropt it out of my Bosom somehow 
and lost it. Little Eddy missed it first, for he used to kiss 
it every morning. ' Where is Papa's hair ? ' says he to me ; 
' Eddy wants to kiss it,' and behold it was gone. I was 
silly enough to feel vexed about it, so pray replace it for me 
as soon as you can. Dear Creatures, I see you walking 
about talking to Dear Mother. Happy Mother, to have 
two such precious children, such warm and tender friends 
too as I have ever found in you both. Angels, it makes me 
miserable not to be with you ! but the time will come when 
I shall embrace you both. — Don't tell Eddy, for Henry 
begg'd he might not know, but our pretty little Love, quite 
in play, bit poor little Arthur's cheek most shockingly. It 
is well now as ever, but it vexed me sadly, you may believe, 
at the time. 

Georgina said she should write you a long letter. ' Full 
of fun and nonsense and follies, I hope ' (say'd I) ' to divert 
her, for she has been ill, dear thing, and it is better not to 
write about interesting subjects at present.' " 

Lord Edward FitzGerald to the Duchess of Leinster. 

" Frescati, Feb. 1797. 

" My Dearest Mother, — We came here the day before 
yesterday. I can't tell you how pleased I was to see this 
place again. I have always a thousand delightful feels 

Nearing the Crisis 


about it: they are not to be express'd, yet affect one 
sensibly. In a moment one goes over years ; every shrub, 
every turn, every peep of the house has a little History 
with it. The Weather is delightful and the place looks 
beautiful. The Trees are all so grown that there are a 
thousand pretty sheltered spots which near the sea, and at 
this Season is very pleasant. The Birds sing, the flowers 
blow, and the whole scene gives me very very pleasant 
moments and make me for moments forget the world and all 
the villany and Tyranny going on in it. Every day the 
violent measures of our Irish Tyrants increase, and every 
day thro' out the Country they loose strength and make 
Enemies, while they in the true spirit and ignorance of 
Despots revenge on Individuals, as if the mouvements or 
indignation of a whole people depended on men and not 
causes, — foolish mad men. I don't know whether to impute 
their conduct to Blindness and folly or wickedness. I rather 
think it is the first for there are certainly good men among 
them and well-meaning. They themselves see what must 
be the issue, yet on they rush perhaps from an Idea they 
are right. There is One who must judge, for I am sure 
among ourselves now, heated as we are by anger and 
jealousies and prejudices, there is no tribunal to refer to. 

But I hate talking on these unpleasant subjects. Let 
me talk of little Edward. I hear he is charming, the dog ; 
think of its liking to play Cards and win. What idea has 
it of winning, that can give it pleasure ? Pray don't let it 
win often. Teach it not to mind success. Has it any idea 
of what it is about when it plays ? Does it know Numbers 
at all ? Aunt Sarah says it is not so obstinate as its Papa : 
so much the better. Little Pam improves every day. It 
grows like Edward in its actions and ways, knocks its head 
on the ground, tears its Cap, cries Ah ! ah, looking at one 
in the Face and watching one's Countenance. My big Pam 
is not well, has got a heavy cold and a sore Eye. She is 
now sweating for it. I hope that will do her good. Dear 

130 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

Lucy I saw yesterday. She is better and is soon to come 
here. Give my Love to all with you. I shall now go walk 
with you in the Garden. I shall go to Dunn's, to the 
Wilderness, &c, &c. God bless you best and dearest 
Mother. — Ever your Edward FitzGerald. 

Pam sends a thousand Loves to all." 

Lady Sarah Napier to Lady Sophia FitzGerald. 

" Feb. 8, '97. 

" Being confined for some time, I am out of the way of 
hearing News, but even here the public talk is so great 
about O'Connor's letter and confinement that one hears of 
nothing else — and to amuse you I will repeat it as Woman's 
gossip. In the Ministerial Circles I believe it would be 
almost dangerous even to name such a wicked treasonable 
rebell's name, but out of that Circle people venture to think 
and speak from reason. B. is with us and being an admirer 
of O'Connor's, and a man of great sense and Judgment, I 
listen with great respect to his opinions, being very candid. 
He says that the letter is a very fine composition. Donny 
argues that matter with him and denies it. My own 
opinion is that being so plain, forcible and within the 
commonest understanding, it must be well written, for 
what is good writing meant for but to be well understood 
and to make impression ? — The next opinion of B., of Donny, 
and of many prudent and knowing persons, is that they defy 
any English lawyer of the Highest Authority to be able to 
prove one single word in it that comes within the law of High 
Treason. They allow it to be seditious in the Extreme and 
that no Government can let it pass unnoticed, unless the 
Government are wise enough to see that by winking at it 
they make it lose its influence, in that Case Government 
may with wisdom pass it over, but not otherwise. It is 
with B., a question whether Govt, have or have not any- 

Nearing the Crisis 


thing beside this letter to confine him. He is almost sure 
that they have nothing else to accuse O'Connor of, and if 
so, then B. says that O'Connor, according to his own prin- 
ciples, ought to rejoice at being taken up, as it will support 
the cause he espouses to the greatest degree ; but if they 
have other causes one must wait till they are known to 
form a judgment ; but, he says, how could O'Connor act so 
foolish a part, if he had done anything to deserve punish- 
ment, as to publish a letter that must put him into the 
hands of the very Government he tries to overturn — besides, 
B. says — a single man's treason is scarce to be called treason ; 
for treason implies a plot and a plot must have numbers, 
and nobody else is taken up — so he ventures to think that 
they have rashly taken him up on this letter only, and will 
burn their own fingers. 

So much for the law part of the Story ; but now for the 
Intentions of the letter. The moment you read it you must 
be struck by the many truths told in it, and the very bad 
use to which those truths are turned, — for granting we have 
no advantages from the English Government (which is not 
granted, because not true), the overturning it and becoming 
an Independent people is not practicable without horrors 
worse a million times than the English Government : nor 
can it be done without the French whose alliance is sure to 
be usurpation, despotism and compleat poverty, if they 
succeeded, — but who can believe the English would let 
Ireland go without fighting for her ? And the consequences 
must be that poor Ireland would remain the Stage of War, 
for years to come. England also would quake for her own 
safety ; but that you will say is not the business of Ireland, 
and I only keep to Irish Patriotism. I really do think 
that to try to promote our shaking off the yoke of England, 
by means of the French, and at this moment of danger, is 
Cruel to poor Ireland, in the most barbarous degree — for it 
is egging on the poor deluded people of Ireland to dash into 
certain misery and destruction during the lives of the 

132 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

present race — and upon all these considerations, I do most 
sincerely from my heart condemn O'Connor, who is vain 
and arrogant enough to think his judgement ought to lead 
his country into a revolution ; for you will see the whole 
bent of the Letter is to preach one for all Ireland — and to 
hint at the means — His friends say he is an honest man — 
I own I doubt it." 

Note by Pamela Lady Campbell. 

" Great doubts of Arthur O'Connor's patriotism have in 
after years been entertained. It was supposed he was 
bought by the Government, as he retired in good circum- 
stances, that were not easily accounted for, to France. 

I once saw Arthur O'Connor at Hamburgh, when I was 
a child, and just remember a very handsome man patting 
my head and crying over me." 

Lady Charlotte Strutt to Lady Sophia FitzGerald. 

" April '97. — The worst of these times are that when 
people think differently, and yet think their Lives and pro- 
perty and the security of their children are at stake, they 
grow warm with those who think differently, and Lord 
Carhampton is a very passionate Man, and had a great 
regard for my Brother and in his eyes (as in the eyes of 
many, Everybody indeed that are not Party people) our 
dear Brother is giving every encouragement to Eebels. Tho' 
one knows he thinks very loyally, he certainly is not acting 
so, in taking so warm a part against the Government at the 
present, for if things are come to such a pass, the Friends 
of England must endeavour now to crush it by force, or give 
Ireland up at once. Concession is too late. It would not 
now satisfy the really Eebellious, which, I am afraid, are 
numerous. The report of the Committee upon the Papers 
seized at Belfast show plainly that their object has been to 
Copy France since the year 1791, and that Eeform and the 

Nearing the Crisis 


Eoman Catholick Cause is only a pretence. I am a little 
provoked at your saying I am a staunch friend to the present 
Administration. It is not true, and there it is that none 
of my family understand me or Mr. Strutt, but because we 
are not wishing that unguarded, violent Man, Mr. Fox, to 
be the head of things we must be of course great admirers 
of the present Administration. The Misery and Misfortune 
of the Country is that if these men are changed, there is 
nobody to replace them that is so to be depended on, better 
than them, for the Country in general have no confidence 
in Mr. Fox, on account of the very unguarded and uncon- 
stitutional sentiments he lets out continually in the House, 
and likewise on account of his connection with Sheridan 
and other Bad Characters: for he has supporters in the 
House of Commons that are too bad to be acknowledged as 
gentlemen, and whom it is a shame to see in the House of 

Lady Chaelotte Strutt to Lady Sophia FitzGerald. 

"April 28, 1797.— The news and talk of England and 
Ireland is my Brother Leinster's Conduct. My Brother 
wrote to the Lord Lieutenant to acquaint him with his 
intention of calling a meeting of the County of Kildare, for 
the purpose of petitioning the King to dismiss his present 
Ministers as the only means to save the kingdom, etc. The 
Ld. Lt. in answer begged to see him. My brother went to 
him to the Castle, repeated what he had said in his letter, 
with a declaration that he had taken his resolution, and 
that nothing could alter his determination. The Ld. Lt. 
then said, he supposed he meant then to give up his office. 
My brother said ' yes, but since you think me unworthy of 
a Civil Employment, I am equally so of a Military One,' 
and therefore desired to resign the Kildare militia, and to 
have his name struck out of the Privy Council. These are 
the Facts. It was reported that he had resigned the ribbon 

134 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

and order of St. Patrick, but that I believe is not so. As 
to the facts, the light in which they appeared to quiet 
people in England, is as follows : If after trying and con- 
sulting with five or six other great men like himself, and 
having remonstrated upon the measures of the administra- 
tion in Ireland, he had found that he nor they could make 
no impression upon the Ld. Lt. etc., and that they were really 
pursuing measures that in his opinion would be the ruin of 
the country, then he ought to have resign'd his Civil Em- 
ployment, which as long as he held (tho' he did not attend 
the House of Lords, nor his friends the Commons) yet he 
was looked upon in this Country as supporting Government. 
After resigning his employment he was free to call a meet- 
ing, to address his Majesty, to change the Ministers, etc., 
but it would have been an odd thing for Tommy Wynne, 
etc., to petition the King to turn out whoever is at the head 
of the office of which Tommy Wynne makes a part, and it is 
just the same thing ; for whoever holds an office under the 
Government is sense'e to form part of the Government. 
His Wishing with his ideas and the light in which he sees 
things to petition for a change, nobody can wonder at." 

Lady Lucy FitzGerald to Lady Sophia FitzGerald. 

" May 19, '97. — I came here yesterday with Henriette 
Trench. I rode. Dearest Edward took me thro' the Town 
and the Park, and then he returned to Somerset. I came 
on here. I found this place in a most uncomfortable 
situation, for Mr. Conolly and dear Aunt's fright at the 
Defenders, and the Times in general, makes them and all 
who are with them quite miserable. She is extremely 
hurt at finding so many of the people about here to be in 
this Defendering business, but why will she for that reason 
suppose them her Enemys. I am afraid they will indeed 
from this time become such from the means Mr. Conolly 
pursues, taking them up by dozens on suspicion, and hunting 

Nearing the Crisis 


the Houses for arms, in short, going on the same plan that 
has been followed in the North, you see with what success. 
Lord Castlereagh is his adviser, and a worse he cannot have. 
Brother Leinster, entre nous, is not very steady. He won't 
join Government I trust, but I much fear that he will be 
harried perhaps into taking measures against these Defenders 
that I would wish him not. You may tell Charlotte in the 
meantime that she may make herself easy, for that he is not 
in Kebellion. She wrote Aunt Louisa a letter, which threw 
her into fits, talking of a separation of England and Ireland. 
Here is a dish of politicks, Dear Sophy, but one must talk 
a little of the subjects one hears so much of." 

The following letter from the Duchess is inter- 
esting as giving a picturesque account of a rather 
well - known incident in Lord Edward's career. 
According to the ordinary version of the story, the 
scarf which he was wearing was a green one. 

The Duchess of Leinster to Lady Sophia EitzGerald. 

" Our dearest Eddy met, as he was riding out on the 
Curragh, with a troop of impertinent young Officers, who 
bid him pull off his handkerchief {not a Green one). He 
refused, as you may believe, and said though the wear- 
ing of it was a matter of indifference before, such be- 
haviour would confirm his wearing it for ever. Upon their 
insisting on it, he told them that if they would send him 
separate challenges he would fight them individually, if they 
chose it, but that nothing shou'd make him take off his 
Handkerchief. In the midst of this Col. Taylor happening 
to ride by enquired what was the matter, and was shock'd 
at the impertinence of these Boys, who disgrace the Army, 
and begg'd Edward wou'd not deign to answer them, but 
come with him to Genl. Dundass who express'd himself 
indignant at them, and desired Edward wou'd send for the 

136 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

Civil Magistrate and have them severely punish'd, but upon 
Edward's declining it he gave out a severe reprimand in 
publick orders the next day. Now perhaps you have heard 
all this, but I think you may also know nothing about it, 
and in that case nothing that relates to our Beloved can 
come amiss : it was very disagreeable, but the Angel told 
Louisa that when he look'd round on all their Boyish faces, 
their Youth (all imagining they were doing a fine thing by 
stopping him) moved him, and he could not help forgiving 
them in his Heart ; is not this so like him ? " 

The Duchess of Leinster to Lady Lucy FitzGerald. 

" May 1797. — Alas I see I must not expect my Eddy ! 
he wou'd not feel comfortable in leaving Ireland at this 
moment, tho' for ever so short a time. We have been 
reading the address from Armagh and think it finely wrote, 
and all the truths it contains strongly and properly ex- 
press'd. Good God, how is it possible People will not 
attend to such obvious reasoning, the truth of which strikes 
one so forcibly ? It is infatuation in the highest degree ! 
But nothing can happen without the permission of God, 
and we must trust in His providence which will avert the 
Evil if best for us, or support us under it if it is to happen. 
I find my mind much less weak than I thought it would be. 
Tell my Eddy so and press him to your Heart for me. His 
pretty Babe is well, merry and happy. I told him some- 
thing he was eating was enough and that more was too much. 
1 But Eddy don't like enough, Eddy like too much. 1 Was not 
that so like Papa's comical answers ? It diverted Charles 
Fox and Lord Holland of all things ! They heard him. 

I think I hear my Angel Eddy so funny about it. Oh 
that I could hear him ! " 

Fortunately for the Duchess her fears that Lord 

Nearing the Crisis 


Edward would not be able to come to England 
proved unfounded. He came over, as we have seen, 
with Lady Lucy on the 24th of May. His visit, 
however, was a very short one, and the only person 
of importance whom he saw whilst he was in London 
was Charles James Fox. After his return the 
Duchess and her daughters moved about from place 
to place, — they walked on the Pantiles at Tunbridge 
Wells, and the Barge-path at Thames Ditton, they 
drank the waters at Cheltenham and bathed at Bath 
till the month of October, when Lord Edward paid 
another flying visit to London, and saw his mother 
and sisters, for the last time. On his return journey 
to Ireland " he was to have gone half way with me 
to Cheltenham," wrote Lady Lucy, "but he was 
hurried away by an Idea he had. I don't know 
when I felt so miserable. Dear Mama so kind, I 
won't give way to low spirits as Eddy begg'd me 
not." Probably the reason for his sudden departure 
was the expectation of the near approach of the 
crisis, but subsequently it seems as if he thought 
that matters had quieted down sufficiently to make 
it safe for Lady Lucy to pay another visit to Ire- 
land, — a visit which, as the following letter will 
show, was fated never to take place. 

Lord Edward FitzGerald to the Duchess of Leixster. 

"Ireland, Dec. 19, '97. 

" My dearest Mother, — I have to thank you for two or 
three letters : it was lazy not to write sooner. I am now 
going to give you a scolding for preventing Lucia from 
pa) T ing me a visit : it was not fair : when she was so near 

138 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

she might easily have taken the Trip, and I can not think 
your reasons for preventing her were good (tho' well 
intended). We might have had a very comfortable pleas- 
ant month, and there was not the reasons for her being so 
uneasy as when I was in London. However, as the thing 
is over, I must forgive you, and the punishment you shall 
have is the thoughts of having spoilt our pleasant party, 
for pleasant and comfortable it would have been. I am 
glad my Boy is so well and such a Comfort to you, dear 
thing. I should like to see its face listening to the Stories. 
Pam is recovered from the Hooping Cough, but is all broke 
out in Scabs and Eash : otherwise well in health. Her 
strength and flesh are return'd, her appetite good. I think 
it is something of the same humour Edward had at her 
age, when I left him in London with you. ... I do think if 
Ogilvie could contrive to come over for a month it would 
do no harm. I have nothing new to tell my dear Mother 
from this place. The papers show you the state we are in. 
Wretched bad it is. Things take such a violent Turn. I 
have sometimes thought of sending my Pam to her Mother 
to have her out of the way. Do not mention this to any- 
body as it is yet only a Cursory thought and anyhow it 
would not be in the course of a couple of months. How 
are you going on in England ? I do not think there will 
be peace. What does 0. think ? For one I should not be 
surprised if the French attempt an Invasion in England. 
I do not see how they can be prevented if the War goes on. 
The Country has got into a critical situation, and by all I 
hear is likely to remain so, for I see no sign of a change 
of those men who have brought it to this state. But I won't 
talk of Politicks for they only torment one. One sees the 
Mischief, but not the remedy. . . . Bless my Darling Mother. 
Love your affectionate and loving son Edward." 



Two months after that last letter to his mother, 
Lord Edward was in hiding, the proclaimed enemy 
of his country. Reynolds the informer, sworn a 
United Irishman by Lord Edward himself, had 
given the Government notice of the intended meet- 
ing at Bond's house, and all the leaders of the 
United Irish, with the exception of Lord Edward, 
had been arrested. On him alone centred the 
remaining hopes of the revolutionary party, and 
knowing this, he continued to hide in Dublin, being- 
hunted day by day from house to house, although 
he had been informed by Mr. Ogilvie that the one 
wish of the Government was that he should escape 
from the country, and that no steps would be taken 
to prevent his departure. His own course and that 
of the Government were equally obvious. His 
departure would have saved them an enormous 
amount of anxiety, and would have put a stop to 
any idea of an immediate rising. On the other 
hand, it would have been a poor act on his part, 
and at variance with his whole character, to desert 
the cause at the eleventh hour — solely to secure 
his own safety, — even though forebodings of its 


140 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

failure, perhaps even some idea that it was a 
mistake, may have exercised his mind. Nor was 
his determination to carry the affair through likely 
to be weakened by the proclamation of martial law 
on March the 20th. The horrors and barbaric 
cruelties which resulted from this last act of the 
frightened Government are too well known to need 
recalling. They have been described over and over 
again by partisan writers and impartial historians. 
All tell the same tale, that the immediate result of 
this proclamation was to make the rebellion inevi- 
table. The arrest of Lord Edward on May the 
19th, far from damping the ardour of his party, 
only added fresh fuel to the fire which was already 
kindled, and four days afterwards the insurrection 
broke out, and flamed through the country with a 
savage ferocity and barbarity on both sides which 
have never been equalled even in the annals of 
civil wars. 

Without attempting to follow Lord Edward to 
his various hiding-places during the dreary period 
that followed, I shall return once more to Lady 
Lucy's journal, leaving her to tell the story of the 
remaining months of his life as it reached her day 
by day in London and at Boyle Farm. It will be 
convenient to resume it at the time of Arthur 
O'Connor's second arrest, prior to which he had had 
several interviews with Lady Lucy in company with 
his friend Burdett, " a gentleman from the North." 

" March 2, 1798. — This morning heard of Arthur 
O'Connor's being taken up with three others. They were 
taken at Margate endeavouring to go to France. There 

The Last Days 


never was anything so grievous because it was so foolish 
of him not to manage it better. 

March 4. — Nothing is known about the Prisoners, as 
the Privy Council are quite silent : they sit every day. 

March 8. — They all went to Court but me. We had 
a nice dance in the evening, only my heart was sad for our 
Friend. I took pains, however, not to let it appear, because 
it is of importance not to betray fear. 

March 16. — Heard this day that O'Connor's tryal is 
to come on in April. Erskine is engaged for him. I am 
not comfortable about the thing altogether. 

April 4. — We went to Boyle Farm : the weather is 
lovely. The assurances Pamela gives me of Edward's safety 
help to calm my mind, yet I wish she would let me go over. 
She desires I won't. She says she has a reason. 

April 6. — I had a letter from Pamela about O'Connor 
business. I appointed Mr. Fergusson and went to town 
alone to meet him in Harley Street. He was detain'd 
beyond the time he had fix'd. However, I saw him. I 
had never spoke to him before, but had no idea of any 
wretchedness preventing my doing any good, and as it 
happen'd it was of great consequence for me to speak with 
him. I returned to Boyle Farm in the evening. 

April 13. — Henry had a letter from Aimt Louisa 
saying that she had had a conversation with a person high 
in Office (Lord Castlereagh), and that the result was that 
she wish'd Edward's family to use their influence with him 
to persuade him to go to America. This I well knew would 
be in vain had we had it in our power, but, alas ! we had 
not, as we did not know where he was conceal'd : after 
some deliberation we agreed that Mr. Ogilvie who was 
going to Ireland should speak to Lady Edward to desire 
her to inform him, as she alone knew where to find him. 
We well know that if reason did not incline him to adopt 
the measure, persuasion would be useless. 

April 4. — Mr. 0. left Boyle Farm. I gave him a 

142 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

letter for Pamela intreating her to let me go over unless 
she really had, as she said, strong motives for wishing me 
to stay. 

May 9. — Heard that Mr. Ogilvie had arrived at 
5 o'clock from Ireland in the Stage. He brought us 
assurances from Pamela of Edward's safety, said she seemed 
perfectly satisfied and in excellent spirits, that she did not 
wish me to go to her by any means. He brought me two 
lines with nothing in them in answer to the intreaties I 
made her to place confidence in me, at least to tell me if 
really she wanted me here. Mr. 0. told us he was himself 
ignorant of Edward's place of concealment, — that seeing 
Lady Edward so cautious and prudent and so secure he did 
not press her to anything, but left all to herself. 1 

May 20. — I received a letter from Pamela telling me 
she was to be sent away out of Ireland. 

May 21.— The Tryal at Maidstone (Arthur O'Connor's) 
came on this day. Mimi went to a masquerade as Night. 
I was gone to bed, and as she came to show herself to me 
in her sable garments, a kind of melancholy feel came over 
me which I never had before experienced anything like : it 
communicated itself to her. She hug'd me and cried. She 
hated going out she said. She look'd very pale and more 
lovely than ever I saw her. 

May 22. — I sat all the evening in painful anxiety. 
I thought the fate of poor O'C. was then at the point of 
being decided. I did not know my own was seal'd ! 

May 23. — Slept little, got up very early and received 
a note from Burdett from Maidstone with the words 
" Quigley condemn'd : O'Connor acquitted." This was at 
8 o'clock. Before I had recover'd the pleasure this news 
gave me, Mr. 0. received a letter from the Duke of Port- 
land with the account of Ed. being taken on the 20th. Mr. 
0. rushed out of the House and left me in uncertainty as 

1 On May 19, Lord Edward was captured, though the news did 
not reach England till the 23rd. 

The Last Days 


to the particulars, which I did not hear till I dragg'd myself 
to Henry's. Lady Henry told me ! I was carried home, 
and there after some more preparation Charlotte told me 
he was slightly wounded in the arm. I insisted on seeing 
the Duke of Portland's letter : it said no more than ' Slight 
wound.' Ryan was the only thing that seemed to give 
anybody any uneasiness. 

May 24. — Henry determined to go to Ireland. I 
intreated him to take me, which he refused. Mary came 
to see me and we went out into the fields and wept together. 
Still they say they sivear his wound is not dangerous. 

May 25. — Mary came in with a letter to her Papa 
from Ireland, and from expressions she used I first caught 
the idea, the certainty rather, of Ed.'s wound being danger- 
ous. I fainted and was very ill. When I got home I 
found them still talking of his wound being slight, and they 
were in spirits from the accounts of Ryan being better. 

May 26. — Nobody writes: the case is nobody dares 
to write from that Country: people here hardly dare to 
speak. The moment is awful : a universal dread and horror 
is on all faces. 

May 27. — Henry set out for Ireland ; he had staid for 
lawyers' advice. I w T as reconciled to his not taking me, as 
I see I might bring suspicion upon him, which at present 
don't exist, and so prevent his doing so much good. Mr. 
0. assures me that from the conversation he had with the 
Chancellor I should be sent away, which I the easier believe 
from Pamela being sent away : but I trust to going with 
Mama in a few days. 

May 28. — Mama was at last told of his being wounded. 
Why was it kept so long from her ? She declares positively 
she will go, but they persuade her she must do a great deal 
here first, in consequence of which she sees everybody, and 
our house is crowded from morning till night with friends 
of all descriptions. The object is to get his Tryal put off, 
which is fixed for the 11th. The Duke of Richmond, 

144 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

Charles Fox, Lord Holland, Mr. Sheridan, G. Byng, Mr. 
Gray, and numberless others gave their advice, and pro- 
mised to go over to Ireland at the time. 

May 30. — Pamela arrived with her two little girls. 
She was accompanied by a Mr. Murphy, 1 a Parson, whom 
Lord Moira sent with her. Her spirits surprised us. The 
first thing was to assure us there was nothing against him, 
and that she was easy. The United men have risen, and 
in their success she sees His salvation, and so do I, but all 
are of a contrary opinion, and see it as fatal to Him from 
making Government desperate, whereas I think their fears 
will contain them ; they will not dare ! His wound is my 
only dread, and yet Pamela is easy. 

May 31. — Mr. 0. brought Pamela a passport from the 
Duke of Portland and a week's leave to stay in London. 
She is determined to stay. What monster could ask her 
to go ? She employ 'd friends (Mr. Sheridan) to get her 
leave to stay ; this made violent altercation between her 
and Mr. Ogilvie, who behaves sadly to us both. The Duke 
of Kichmond has taken Pamela under his protection and 
she is to stay. 

June 2. — Two letters to Mr. 0. from Mrs. Pakenham, 
and one at last from Aunt Louisa to Pamela, saying that 
he had been very bad and had made his will, but was 
better. Mama still patient and waiting instead of flying. 

1 Extract from Note by Mr. Murphy's Niece. — " When my uncle 
arrived with Lady E. at Lord Moira's house in London, George the 
IVth, then Prince of Wales, was most desirous to hear of the state of 
Irish affairs and to talk to the gentleman who had accompanied Lady 
E. to London. There was a large party invited to meet my uncle at 
dinner. The Prince drove up in the course of the evening, and Lord 
M. presented my uncle to H.R.H., who talked to him the whole 
evening, listening to his account of Irish affairs with great interest, 
and thanking my uncle over and over again for the trouble he had 
taken, and for his care of Lady E., for after the arrest of Ld. Edward 
the Privy Council ordered that his wife should go to England, and 
my uncle had promised to escort Lady E. there." 

The Last Days 


I miserably felt my dependant state, and the being tied 
down to wait the will of others when I felt that we were 
losing in deliberation the precious few remaining days. I 
felt obliged to them all for their efforts, but I felt they 
would be ineffectual. All that Human foresight could 
point out they are doing, but alas, Ed. was dying and alone ! 
My senses nearly forsook me, distrusting all, watching the 
motions of the insurrection, trying to recollect his injunc- 
tions, my promises to Him to be stout when the time came, 
still catching at the Hope of Mama's departure of getting 
at last to Ireland, to the Prison, of once more beholding my 
soul's treasure, perhaps dying with Him. I had recollec- 
tions and thoughts enough to settle everything with 
Pamela to get from her all necessary information. 

June 6. 1 — Mama saw the Prince of Wales and the 
Duke of York. The former sent a letter for the Chancellor 
in Ireland. The latter promised to speak to the King to 
have the trial put off. Both show'd much good nature. 
Mr. B., a cousin of ours, was with Mama all day. He is a 
friend of Mr. Pitt's. The fuss of this Day was beyond all 
conception ; at last at 6 o'clock Mama and Mimi set out ; 
we were to overtake them next day. 

June 7. — Mr. 0., Sophia and I set out. At Towcester 
a messenger overtook us. On seeing him I guess'd my 

June 8. — We overtook Mama at Coles Hill at 5 o'clock 
in the morning." 

Here Lady Lucy's journal ceases abruptly, and 
no further entry was made for many days ; the 
story of her brother's life is completed by the 
correspondence in the next chapter, — the saddest 
of all these sad letters. 

1 Two days after Lord Edward's death, the news of which had not 
reached England. 




Lady Louisa Conolly to the Duchess of Leinster 
(endorsed " on a painful subject "). 

" Our dear Lady Edward has commissioned me to tell 
you that she entreats you will rest satisfied that your 
beloved Son has never put pen to paper that could injure 
him. She hopes that his escape is effected, and she means 
to remain in Dublin to take care of his affairs, and to let 
her conduct be known to whoever pleases to enquire about 
her. She has already met with all the good nature that 
she is so well entitled to, for anything more lovely or 
becoming to her situation than her manner is I never saw. 
It is natural, sensible, resign'd, and religious, and of course 
moving to the last degree. ... I therefore trust in God her 
health has not materially suffered. She charg'd me to give 
her love to you and to tell you how happy she is that her 
dear Boy is with you, and that she would write to you as 
soon as she was able, as there is nothing but reports, and 
that no authentic account whatever can be obtained for 
some time. We must, my dearest, my beloved sister, 
submit to a most painful anxiety, hoping the best, and 
thankful for one blessing that attends few others in 
Dearest Edward's situation, — his natural charming Ex- 
cellent character, that has gained him so many friends, that 
those who differ most in sentiment with him lament more 
than blame. Oh, what dreadful times do we live in. But 
I will not let myself go to the feelings that my heart is 
bursting with." 


Imprisonment and Death 


Mrs. Pakenham to Lady Sophia FitzGerald. 

"March 20, 1798. 

" My Dearest Sophia, — I feel very much at a loss how 
to write to you, and yet when events have happened that 
must give you so much concern I cannot be silent; the 
arrest of a number of Persons in Dublin last week, and the 
sudden departure of Lord Edward, has been too Publick a 
thing for you not to have heard of it, and too unpleasant a 
circumstance to your family not to have given me the very 
greatest concern. I know not, my dearest Sophia, what 
may be your way of thinking about Politicks ; unfortunately 
for these countries few people are at this moment free and 
impartial on that Subject ; Mr. Pakenham's situation and 
opinions attaches him strongly (and of course me) to the 
existing Government here, but we do not, and I hope we 
never shall let any opinions alter our private Friendship, 
and though I may disagree in opinion with many, I do not 
love, regard, esteem or feel in any possible way for them 
one bit the less for their not seeing things in the same light 
that I do. Government have found the Act of Power 
necessary, and altho' we are not among those who blame 
them for it, and as the Country fear it was necessary, we 
lament it as much in general as any people can do, and 
in particular most sincerely deplore the distress it has 
occasioned to our Friends, and would do anything in our 
power to alleviate it. Lady Edward, I believe, does us the 
justice to believe this fully, as she has conversed with me 
since with a degree of kindness that shows her good sense 
can distinguish between publick necessity and private regard. 
She seems to have kept up her spirits, and to speak and act 
with a degree of coolness and good sense that does her 
infinite credit, and that may be of essential service to Lord 
Edward's affairs ; her health, I am also happy to find, is 
mending, and I imagine and hope, for her sake, she has 
means of corresponding with Lord Edward." 

148 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

Lady Saeah Napier to Lady Sophia FitzGerald. 

" April 24. 

" Donny was strongly affected by the news I was at last 
forced to communicate to him about Dear Edward — the 
Warrant, &c. In five minutes after he said, ' Sit down, 
write to Pamela to come here the moment she is able, and 
to rest assured she shall never find a heart here not ready 
to receive her and her child.' So said so done, and Pamela 
was to come, when behold the dear little soul lay ill, as I 
should not have known but for Dear, Dear Lady Moira, 
who has acted like a Mother, a tender Mother, by her. She 
was to have dined there the very day, and Lady Moira 
laments she did not, as she then could have kept her to lie 
in at Moira's house. But she sat with her till the Doctor 
came, and when Mrs. Farrel began to be grand and to want 
to go back to Lady Powerscourt, Lady Moira gave her a 
good scold, and said if she stirred from the bedside she 
would get Lady Grannard's nurse-tender instantly ; so kept 
her in good order. The Doctor is our old Dr. Melly, a 
famous good surgeon and midwife in a second line of life, 
and showed the greatest skill and attention (Clark having 
displeased Edward long ago) in that poor little Pamela 
was not d6laiss£e, though from her giving no notice she 
might have been so, dear soul; upon Lady Moira's first 
letter I was going, but Lady Castlereagh had told my sister 
of it, and she went, and I believe wrote to your Mother. 
I reserved my visit till the third day, and found her feverish, 
low and weak, but having no fears of difficulty with the 
milk, which ran in plenty, and the infant quite well. Her 
house is very quiet and comfortable ; her family too large 
for her purse I fear, but for the moment very necessary. 
The Nurse-tender and Sophia for her, Mrs. Small and a 
little girl for Pamela, and the young Lucy, Mr. Small and 
two boys for errands, who, I suppose, are some of dear 
Edward's bits of poor children he is so generous about. She 

Imprisonment and Death 


was strongly affected on seeing me, and, in spite of my 
avoiding the subject, gave me renewed and repeated proofs 
that nothing could be done to him, even if he was in 
Government hands. Indeed I wanted not such assurances, 
but they are always pleasant, and she explained about the 
Map so talked of. It was an anonymous essay on the 
possibility of the Citizens of Dublin defending themselves 
against any attack, whether military or other, if they chose 
it. Edward seemed to treat it as of no sort of consequence 
to Lady Edward, who had asked him about it, and he had 
even laughed at the Idea of its being taken in his Papers, 
and of the Importance Government would attach to what 
he thought so im-important, and it seems that the Author 
no sooner heard of it than he went to Government to avovj 
it. Lady Edward never saw the man, so there is the mouse 
brought forth by the mountain. 

I hope you can read cross writing." 

From Lord Edwaed's Niece, Lady Mary FitzGeeald. 

" The Prince said so many kind things to Dear Papa 
about the darling Edward that he was quite affected. 
Kildare and Bill are gone to see the Prince. You see by 
the papers that the Devils have offered £1000 reward for 
the precious creature. William heard one of the strange 
servants speaking of the Proclamation down stairs, and the 
little Fellow immediately said, 1 I'll be damn'd if they take 
him now ' ; was it not so spirited ? The rigours and horrors 
practised out of spite on Papa's tenants is dreadful beyond 

The Duchess of Leinstee to Lady Sophia FitzGeeald. 

"May 21. 

" Lucy had a letter from Pamela desiring her not to 
write any more to Ireland, as she had determined upon 

150 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

going to Hamburgh with her two girls, as she thought she 
should be easier there among her friends, and mentions 
Mme. de Genlis being in a bad state of health, and the 
comfort it would be to her to see her. She gives no other 
reason for leaving Ireland, but it is reported that she has 
been desired to do so : this may or may not be true, but we 
don't believe it." (As a matter of fact Lady Edward had 
been ordered by the Government to leave the country.) 

" Mr. Ogilvie had a letter this morning from Emily 
Bellamont, who tells him that her house and Papers have 
been searched. The messenger brought her a most polite 
letter from the Duke of Portland, full of excuses for the 
trouble it must give her, but informing her it was a Duty 
he ow'd the Publick, as he had received information that 
her brother Lord Edward had been there and left Boxes 
that were supposed to contain Papers in her hands. This 
mistake arose from Mr. Ogilvie's Visit, and his having 
brought her from Ireland a small Box with Irish snuff and 
Tooth powder. She says she did not feel the least alarmed, 
being so perfectly satisfied they would find nothing in her 
House, poor dear quiet soul." 

Lady Louisa Conolly to William Ogilvie, Esq. 1 
" Castletown, May 21, 1798. 

"My dear Mr. Ogilvie, — I was too ill yesterday to 
write, but as there sailed no packet, I have an opportunity 
of letting my letter go now among the first, with the sad 
narrative of Saturday night's proceedings. Which of poor 
Edward's bad friends betrayed him, or whether, through the 
vigilance of the town magistrates, he was apprehended at 
nine o'clock that night, I know not, but, at a house in 
Thomas Street, Mr. Sirr, the town-major, Mr. Eyan (printer 
of Paulkener's Journal), and Mr. Swan (a magistrate), got 
information of him, and had a small party of soldiers to 
1 Mr. Ogilvie was at this time in London. 


Imprisonment and Death 


surround the house. Mr. Sirr was settling the party, and 
advised Kyan and Swan not to be in haste ; but they hastily 
ran up stairs, and forced open the door where he was asleep. 
He instantly fired a pistol at Mr. Eyan, who we have this 
day hopes will recover. Upon Mr. Swan's approaching 
him, he stabbed Mr. Swan with a dagger, but that wound is 
not considered dangerous. 

Mr. Sirr, upon hearing the resistance, ran up stairs, and 
thinking that Edward was going to attack him, fired a 
pistol at him, which wounded Edward in the shoulder, but 
not dangerously. He was then carried prisoner to the 
Castle, where Mr. Stewart (the surgeon-general) was ordered 
to attend him. He dressed his wound, and pronounces it 
not to be dangerous. Lord Camden had ordered an apart- 
ment for him, but the magistrates claimed him, on account 
of his having wounded their people. He was therefore 
carried to Newgate, and, after the first burst of feeling was 
over, I hear that he was quite composed. 

Mr. Pakenham has promised to inquire if he wants any 
comfort or convenience that can be sent him in prison ; 
and I am going to town this evening, meaning to see Mr. 
Stewart, the surgeon, to know from him what may be 
wanted. I am also going for the purpose of hearing whether 
this event makes any alteration in the determinations 
respecting Lady Edward's leaving the country. If it is 
necessary that she should still go, I shall wish to hurry her 
off, and will in another letter write you more particulars 
about her. In the mean time, I have had the satisfaction 
of hearing, that she bore the shock yesterday better than 
one could expect, and she had some sleep last night. 

As soon as Edward's wound was dressed, he desired the 
private secretary at the Castle (Mr. Watson, I believe, is 
the name) to write for him to Lady Edward, and to tell her 
what had happened. The secretary carried the note him- 
self. Lady Edward was at Moira House, and a servant of 
Lady Mountcashell's came soon after, to forbid Lady 

152 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

Edward's servants saying anything to her that night. Poor 
Miss Napier, with my Emily, were at the play that night, 
with Lady Castlereagh and Mrs. Pakenham, in the next 
box to the Lord Lieutenant's, where the news was brought 
to him, and of course the two poor girls heard it all. Miss 
Napier was so overcome that Lady Castlereagh went out 
with her, and Miss Napier went instantly to Moira House, 
knowing Lady Edward to be there. Lady Moira forbid her 
telling her that night, so that Miss Napier made some 
foolish pretence to go home with her, and she has never left 
Lady Edward since. Mr. Pakenham made Louisa Paken- 
ham keep Emily in the box, as they feared that all running 
out of the box might have the appearance of some riot ; 
and I believe it might be better, but the poor little soul was 
wretched, as you may imagine. The next morning (being 
yesterday), Miss Napier told Lady Edward, and she bore it 
better than she expected ; but Mr. Napier, who went to 
town, brought us word that her head seemed still deranged, 
and that no judgement could yet be formed about her. He 
and Sarah are gone again this morning. I wait for the 
evening, as I wish to go a little better prepared with advice 
than I could hitherto have been. 

It is my intention to entreat for leave to see him 
(nobody has been permitted to go since he was carried to 
Newgate), but I will wait to see surgeon Stewart, and know 
first the state of his health, and if he would like to see me. 
The trial, it is thought, will not come on immediately, but 
as reports are the only information I have upon that head, 
I shall postpone saying more until I am better informed. 
My astonishment at finding that Edward was in Dublin 
can only be equalled by his imprudence in being in it. I 
had felt such security, at being Sure of his having left 
Dublin Bay, added to the belief, from the Duke of Portland's 
office, that he had left the English coast in a boat, that I 
scarcely felt startled when the Proclamation came out, 
though I began to wonder why it took place. 

Imprisonment and Death 


I received yours of the 15th yesterday morning, with 
the bad account of the poor Duchess of Leinster's state of 
health. It affected me, certainly, but under the impression 
of Edward's misfortune, I could feel no other equal to 
what that has brought upon us. I am very sorry that the 
poor Duke still deceives himself about her. 

This last week has been a most painful one to us. 
Maynooth, Kilcock, Leixlip, and Celbridge, have had part 
of a Scotch regiment quartered at each place, living upon 
free quarters, and every day threatening to burn the towns. 
I have spent days in entreaties and threats, to give up the 
horrid pikes. Some houses burnt at Kilcock yesterday 
produced the effect. Maynooth held out yesterday, though 
some houses were burnt and some people punished. This 
morning, the people of Leixlip are bringing in their arms. 
Celbridge as yet holds out, though five houses are now 
burning. Whether obstinacy, or that they have them not, 
I cannot say, but you may imagine what Mr. Conolly and 
I suffer. He goes about entreating to the last, — spent all 
yesterday out among them, and to-day is gone again. He 
goes from Maynooth to Leixlip and Celbridge, and begins 
again and again to go round them. 

We have fortunately two most humane officers, that do 
not do more than is absolutely necessary from their orders. 
At present I feel most prodigiously sunk with all the 
surrounding distress, but I am determined to exert myself, 
for the little use I may be of. It would grieve you to 
see Mr. Conolly's good heart so wounded as it is. — Yours 
affectionately, L. C." 

The following graphic account of Lord Edward's 
arrest, which was contributed by Lord Frederick 
FitzGerald to the Journal of the Kildare County 
ArchoBological Society, is of special value inasmuch 
as it is the statement of an actual eye-witness of the 
events : — 

154 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

" This extract," writes Lord Frederick, " is taken 
from the original narrative written by Mr. Nicholas 
Murphy, at whose house (now No. 151 Thomas 
Street) Lord Edward FitzGerald was arrested. The 
narrative is dated November 29, 1831, and is now 
in the possession of the Duke of Leinster, at Carton. 

Murphy was confined in Newgate as a State 
prisoner, without being brought to trial, for fifty- 
five weeks. During this time his house was occu- 
pied as a barrack, and all his goods were looted 
or destroyed." 

"Arrest of the Late Lord Edward FitzGerald. 

On the night of Friday, the 18th of May, 1798, Lord 
Edward FitzGerald came to my house, No. 153 Thomas 
Street, in company with a lady, 1 about the hour of ten or 
eleven o'clock at night. I did expect him the previous 
evening, and the reason I state this is, that a friend of his 
came to me, and requested that I would receive him, as he 
wished to move from where he was at present. I was 
getting the house cleaned down and scoured, and I brought 
his friend in, and he saw the persons employed as I told 
him ; he mentioned that it was not intended to remove him 
immediately, but said, ' I think a week or ten days would 
answer.' I assented, and indeed with reluctance. How- 
ever, I made no mention of that. In a few days previous 
to Lord Edward's coming the Government had offered One 
Thousand Pounds Eeward for his apprehension. I certainly 
felt very uneasy at this circumstance, and I wished very 
much to see Lord Edward's friend, and where to see him I 
did not know. As a man of honour I wished to keep my 
word, and I could not think of refusing him admittance 

1 A Mrs. Moore, in whose husband's house, No. 119 Thomas Street, 
Lord Edward had been previously concealed. 

Imprisonment and Death 


when he came. Unfortunately for him and myself, I did 
so. I expected him on Thursday, but he did not come till 
Friday, 18th May, '98. I perceived he looked very bad from 
what he appeared when I saw him before. The lady that 
came with him did not stay long, and I made a tender of 
my services to go home with her as she lived in the neigh- 
bourhood. There was a person we met on our way that I 
believe was waiting for her. I had some knowledge of him 
myself, so I returned to the house with a troubled mind. 

Lord Edward told me he was very bad with a cold, 
and it was easy to perceive it. I had procured for him 
some whey, and put some sherry wine in it. At this time 
he appeared quite tranquil, and went up to the room in- 
tended for him ; the back room in the attic story. In the 
morning he came down to breakfast, and appeared better 
than the night before. The friend that spoke to me con- 
cerning him came, I believe, about eleven o'clock ; then it 
came out for the first time an account of the rencontre that 
took place the night before between Lord Edward's party 
and Major Sirr's. 1 It's perfectly clear in my humble judg- 
ment that Major Sirr had known of his removal and the 
direction that he intended to take ; for his party and Lord 
Edward's party came in contact in a place called Island 
Street, the lower end of Watling Street ; they there met, 
and a skirmish took place, and in the confusion Lord 
Edward got off. However, one of the party 2 was taken, 
but could not, I believe, be identified. I found my situation 
now very painful, but nothing to what it was afterwards. 

In the course of the day (Saturday, 19th) a guard of 
soldiers, and I believe Major Swan, Major Sirr, a Mr. Med- 
licot, and another, were making a search at a Mr. Moore, 
Yellow Lion, in Thomas Street. A friend came and men- 
tioned the circumstance to me. I immediately mentioned 
it to Lord E., and had him conveyed out of the house in a 
valley of one of the warehouses. While I was doing this, 
1 The Town Major. 2 William M'Cabe. 

156 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

Mr. K 1 came and inquired of the girl if I was at home. I 
believe she said not. ' Bid him be cautious/ I think, was 
what she told me he said. I considered that conduct very 
ill-timed ; however, I am led to believe it was well-intended. 
On Saturday morning, the day of the arrest, there came a 
single rap of the door. I opened it myself, and a woman 
with a bundle appeared, and inquired if that was Mr. M. 2 
I said it was ; she informed me she came from Mrs. M., 3 
and was desired to leave that bundle there. I knew not 
what it contained, but to my surprise, when I opened it, I 
found it to be a uniform of a very beautiful green colour, 
gimpt or braided down the front, with crimson or rose- 
colour cuffs, and a cape. There were two dresses — one a 
long-skirted coat, vest and pantaloons; the other a short 
jacket that came round quite close, and braided in front ; 
there was also a pair of overalls that buttoned from the hip 
to the ankle, with, I think, black Spanish leather inside ; I 
suppose they were intended for riding. The bundle con- 
tained a cap of a very fanciful description, extremely 
attractive, formed exactly like a sugar-loaf, or, as Mr. 
Moore says, conically ; that part that went round the fore- 
head green, the upper part crimson, with a large silk tassel, 
and would incline one side or the other occasionally when 
on the head. After placing Lord E. in the valley of the 
warehouse, I came down in a little time, and stood at 
the gate ; the soldiers still at Mr. M. 4 I perceived four 
persons walking in the middle of the street, some of them 
in uniform; I believe Yeomen. I believe Major Swan, 
Captain Medlicot, 5 &c, was of the party. Toward four 
o'clock Lord E. came down to dinner. Everything was 
supposed to be still now at this time. S. N. 6 came to 
see us ; dinner nearly ready ; I asked S. K to stay and 
dine, which he accepted. Nothing particular occurred 

1 i.e. Samuel Neilson. 2 Murphy. 

3 Moore. 4 Moore's. 

6 Of the City of Dublin Militia. 6 Samuel Neilson. 

Imprisonment and Death 157 

except speaking on a variety of subjects, when Mr. N., as 
if something struck him, went out leaving us together. 
There was very little wine taken ; Lord E. was very abste- 
mious ; in a short time I went out. Now the tragedy 
commenced. I wished to leave Lord E. to himself. I 
was absent, I suppose, about an hour ; I came to the room 
where we dined, being the back drawing-room. He was 
not there. I went to the sleeping-room. He was in bed. 
It was at this time about seven o'clock. I asked him to 
come down to tea. I was not in the room three minutes 
when in came Major Swan and a person following him with 
a soldier's jacket, and a sword in his hand ; he wore a round 
cap. When I saw Major Swan, I was thunderstruck. I put 
myself before him, and asked his business. He looked over 
me and saw Lord E. in the bed. He pushed by me quickly, 
and Lord E., seeing him, sprang up instantly, and drew a 
dagger which he carried about him, and wounded Major 
Swan slightly, I believe. Major Swan had a pistol which 
he fired without effect ; he immediately turned to me and 
gave me a severe thrust of the pistol under the left eye, at 
the same time desiring the person that came in with him to 
take me into custody. I was immediately taken away to 
the yard ; there I saw Major Sirr and about six soldiers of 
the Dumbarton Fencibles. Major Swan thought proper to 
run as fast as he could to the street, and I think he never 
looked behind him till he got out of danger, and he was 
then parading the flags, exhibiting his linen, which was 
stained with blood. Mr. Eyan supplied Major Swan's place, 
and came in contact with Lord E., and was wounded seri- 
ously. Major Sirr at that time came upstairs, and, keeping 
a respectful distance, fired a pistol shot at Lord E. in a very 
deliberate manner, and wounded him in the upper part of 
the shoulder. Eeinforcements coming in, Lord E. surren- 
dered after a very hard struggle. Lord Edward was im- 
prisoned in Newgate. 

158 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

Two surgeons 1 attended daily on Lord E. FitzGerald. 
It was supposed, the evening of the day before he died, he 
was delirious, as we could hear him with a very strong 
voice cry out, ' Come on ! come on ! damn you ! come on ! ' 
He spoke so loud that the people in the street gathered to 
listen to him. He died the next day early in the morning, 
on the 3rd of June. The surgeon attended and opened the 
body. Then he was seen for the first time by the prisoners. 
He had about his neck a gold chain suspending a locket 
with hair in it. Thus died one of the bravest of men, from 
a conviction, I believe, that he wished to ameliorate the 
condition of his country. I shall endeavour to describe his 
person. I believe he was about 5 feet 7 inches in height, 
and a very interesting countenance ; beautiful arched eye- 
brows, fine grey eyes, a beautiful nose and high forehead, 
thick dark-coloured hair, brown, or inclining to black. I 
think he was very like the late Lady Louisa Connolly about 
the nose and eyes. Any person he addressed must admire 
his manner, it was so candid, so good-natured, and so im- 
pregnated with good feeling; as playful and humble as a 
child, as mild and timid as a lady, and when necessary as 
brave as a lion. He was altogether a very nice and elegant 
formed man. Peace to his manes" 

Note by Lord Walter FitzGerald. 

" The two informers implicated in the betrayal of Lord 
Edward were Francis Higgins (proprietor of The Freeman s 
Journal, at that time a paper in the interest of the Govern- 
ment), and Francis Magan, M.A., Barrister -at-Law. On 
the 20th of June, '98, Francis Higgins was paid the Govern- 
ment reward of £1000 for Edward's capture. 2 

Lord Edward's remains were placed in a vault under the 

1 The attendants on Lord Edward were a Mr. Garnett, a Mr. 
Kinsley, and Surgeon Leake. 

2 Vide FitzPatrick's " Secret Service under Pitt." 

Imprisonment and Death 


East End of St. "VVerburgh's Church in Dublin ; and, owing 
to the then damp state of these vaults, it became necessary 
to renew the coffin three times, viz. : — In February, 1844, 
by the orders of Lord Edward's daughter, Lady Campbell ; 
again, in 1874, by the 4th Duke of Leinster; and lastly, in 
May, 1896, by the Trustees of the Leinster Estates." 

Lady Louisa Conolly to Lady Sarah Napier. 

" May 22, 1798. 

" My dearest Sal, — Poor Lady Edward is to go ; when 
I brought her the passport this morning, it threw her into 
sad distress, for she had hoped I could prevail upon them 
to let her live in prison with him. Lord Castlereagh told 
me, that it had been a determination, at the beginning of 
all this particular business, not to admit the friends at all, 
and that it had not been departed from in any one instance ; 
and that, if Mrs. Emmet saw her husband, it was by stealth 
and contrary to the most positive order. I tried for one 
day before she went ; but that, Lady Edward says, she 
would not have ventured, on account of his wound, lest it 
should have caused him fever. Lindsay brought word to-day 
that he was better. Lady Edward will have her choice of a 
Parkgate or Holyhead packet on Thursday morning, at five 
o'clock. I shall, therefore, stay in Dublin till that time, to 
put her on board, to pay her the last little friendly office 
in my power. 

In the House of Commons, to-day, the discovery of the 
conspiracy was announced, which they report to have been 
found out, but just in due time, as this week was to have 
completed it. Two men, of the name of Sheares, have been 
taken up ; in the pocket of one of them a proclamation was 
found, intended for distribution after that Dublin should be 
in their possession ; and in Mr. Braughal's pocket, a letter 
addressed to him saying, ' Get off as soon as you can, for we 
are discovered.' I vouch for nothing, but tell you what I 

160 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

have heard; and know nothing for certain, but my own 
wretchedness. God bless you dearest dear Sal. — Ever yours, 

L. Conolly." 

Mrs. Pakenham to Lady Sophia FitzGerald. 

" Dublin, May 27, 1798. 

" Poor Lady E. is probably with you by this time, and as 
I know the Surgeon writes her constant accounts of his 
health, I can tell you nothing further on that subject but 
what you will know from her, except that upon inquiry I 
find, an Officer, a Gentleman, is appointed to remain with 
him, that he may have every comfort that care and atten- 
tion can supply under such melancholy circumstances, 
which preclude all possible offices of Friendship, else they 
would not be wanting towards him." 

Lord Henry FitzGerald to William Ogilvie, Esq. 

"May 31, '98. 

"My Dear 0., — I am just arrived. Eyan died last 
night. Edward was in the greatest danger for two days, 
convulsed about the neck and shoulders, and apprehensions 
entertained of a lock-jaw, this by what I can understand 
from Lindsay was while the Inflammation lasted, but an 
immense discharge of matter has relieved Him from Agony 
and Danger ; there is a swelling come under the arm, 
which Lindsay thinks may be possibly the Balls or Slugs 
(these are his words), making their way down. Lindsay 
told me He was not dejected. He hears no news whatever 
and knows nothing of what is going on, — dreadful work 
indeed. He has been served you know with the Notice to 
prepare for his Tryal on the 11th of June: this was served 
previous to the death of Eyan. Spencer is killed defending 
his home at Eathangan. Mr. Hamilton called on me in a 
great fuss what to do ; said there was no going down there, 

Imprisonment and Death 161 

but I advised tell Leinster, for Him at least to write word 
down, to have seals put on all Papers, relating to His estate, 
with Duke of Leinster wrote on paper at the outside. Mr. 
Hamilton says if all these papers are destroyed the con- 
sequences may be dreadful. George Ponsonby is in the 
Country but I hope to see him soon, and Curran, who are 
retained. No words can convey to you an Idea of the situa- 
tion of affairs here, but I have confined myself to facts that 
interest Us only, and I think I have mentioned all those of 
consequence. Mr. Hamilton said he would get Mr. Panvoy 
to write to Eathangan. There is an officer always with 
Edward, but how dreadful the Idea that I shall not be 
allowed to see Him. Aunt Louisa was refused. I mean 
however to try immediately through the Lord Lieutenant. 
My Dear 0., when I think of this Tryal coming on at a 
moment when People's minds are so heated and during the 
time of Insurrection, I own I shudder. Also recollect the 
situation from His wounds. I have told you everything 
material on this dreadful business, so God bless you. 


The Bulletins published at the Castle mention that 
Everywhere that the Insurgents have been attacked success 
has attended the Troops. There are thousands of Accounts 
as you may suppose ; but they all tend to this. They say 
they are in great force in Wexford, but I will not go on with 
these Eeports. I apprehend no Danger for Myself, although 
I am told that I do if the soldiers were not to like the cut 
of my coat, as Shakespeare says. Dublin is quite quiet, 
notwithstanding the executions every day." 

Lady Louisa Conolly to William Ogilvie, Esq. 

" Castletown, June 1, 1798. 

" My dear Me. Ogilvie, — I have this instant received 
your two letters of the 26th and 28th of May, and have 
written to Lord Castlereagh, to entreat for the order of 
1 1 

162 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

silence in the papers. I trust it will be complied with, 
because it cannot impede the course of justice; and, if I 
may judge by dear Lord Castlereagh's distress about all 
this business, I fancy Government mean to soften the dis- 
tress as much as possible, and of course will accede to a 
thing that cannot counteract justice. 

I am so entirely of your opinion about dear Edward 
that his heart could never be brought to the guilt imputed 
to him, that I begin to rest my afflicted soul in hope, and 
do not yet give it up; though it was a sad blow to me, 
yesterday, to hear of Eyan's death. It is said he died of 
a fever ; but when once all the circumstances of that affray 
come to be known, I do verily believe that it can only be 
brought in manslaughter, in his own defence. However, 
in the confused state that all things are in, and the mystery 
that involves the truth, every new thing creates doubt and 
alarm. I have also written to Lord Castlereagh, to know 
the mode of proceeding now ; for, upon the idea of Eyan's 
recovery, he had told me, that trial was out of the question. 

Louisa Pakenham, who sees Doctor Lindsay every day, 
sends me constant accounts of dear Edward, who suffers 
less ; and the accounts of yesterday are better than I have 
had yet, as his appetite and sleep were better. But Lindsay 
cannot pronounce him out of danger until the balls are 
extracted, which is not yet the case, though the discharge 
one day was so great as to make him expect it. The warm 
weather has been against him. 

My two letters to poor Lady Edward directed to you, 
contained all the accounts concerning him, which made it 
unnecessary to write to you. I long to hear of her arrival 
in London, and whether she will have permission to remain 
there. I hope the Duke of Portland will let her stay. I 
must, for ever and ever, repeat my firm belief of her 
innocence, as far as acts of treason. That she should know 
dear Edward's opinions, and endeavour to secrete him when 
in danger of being taken, I easily believe ; and where is the 

Imprisonment and Death 163 

wife that would not do so ? As Mr. Conolly justly says, 
no good man can ever impute that as guilt in her. How- 
ever, I believe that under the illiberal prejudice that has 
been against her, as a Frenchwoman, ever since she came 
to Ireland, and which has much increased upon this 
occasion, I believe it was safer to send her to England. 
God bless her, poor soul ! She is to be pitied more than 
can be expressed ; and I never knew how much I loved her, 
till she became so unfortunate. 

I wrote word in my last, that Edward had made his 
will. Lieutenant Stone, of the Derry Militia, has been 
appointed to stay with him : he is a good man, and I hear 
that Edward is pleased with him, and got him to write his 
will, which Stewart and Lindsay signed. I hear that dear 
Henry is just landed : I am very glad of it. I felt sure he 
would come, but I thought you would stay with my poor 
sister. Oh, good God, what is to become of her ? I hardly 
dared read your letters this morning. Her wish to come 
over, I also expected ; and it is so natural, that I think it 
must be the best for her, and yet I dare not advise. The 
trial, I hear, is to be the 20th of next month. I shall beg 
of Lord Castlereagh, when he sends this letter, to tell you 
as many particulars as he can upon that subject. And now, 
my dear Mr. Ogilvie, that I have said all I know about him, 
I must inform you of the dreadful state of this country. 

The pikes prove the intended mischief to any body's 
understanding, without being in the secrets of either 
government or the United Men, and the rebellion is actually 
begun. The north, south, and west, are perfectly quiet, and 
we have every reason to believe the militia are true to 
the existing government ; so that Leinster is the province 
devoted to scenes of bloodshed and misery. As yet, there 
does not appear to be any leader that can be dangerous, and 
their depending on numbers (which they endeavour to 
collect by force, as they pass through the country) shows 
great want of skill ; for the numbers must embarrass instead 

164 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

of assisting, and the consequence has been, the loss of hun- 
dreds of those poor creatures, who confess they do not 
know what they are going to fight for. 

There have been several skirmishes in this neighbour- 
hood : two hundred of them forced through our gates, and 
passed across our front lawn at three o'clock on Saturday 
morning last, the 26th, when I saw them ; but they went 
through quietly. However, it is thought prudent to put 
our house into a state of defence : we are about it now, and 
we shall remain in it. If I had not for ever experienced 
the goodness of God upon trying occasions, I should be at 
a loss to account for my total want of feeling as to personal 
danger ; but, knowing His mercy, I feel at this moment a 
safer natural strength, that can only be sent me from Him. 

My heart is almost borne down with what I feel about 
dear Edward and the family. His mother and wife are two 
sores that I can find no balm for; and I sometimes am 
almost sinking under it, but I do not let it get so much the 
better of me, as not to think of everything that can serve 
him ; but, alas ! how little is in my power, being in no 
secrets whatever ! 

But to return to the rebels : they have a camp at Black- 
more Hill, near Eushborough ; are in possession of Lord 
Miltown's house, another camp at Taragh, and another at 
Stapletown, near the Bog of Allen. At Dunboyne, the first 
breaking out appeared ; and the town is burnt down all to 
a few houses. Mr. Conolly tells me, that the destruction 
in the county, from Sallins to Kilcullen bridge, made him 
sick, and that many years cannot restore the mischief. We 
are happy in having been able to preserve Celbridge, and 
the poor people, I trust, will find that we are their best 
friends at last. You may be sure that we are protecting 
them to the best of our power. God bless you. I will 
endeavour to keep a journal of what passes here : I shall 
pretend to no more, for I can know but little of what passes 
in Dublin. — Yours affectionately, L. Conolly." 

Imprisonment and Death 


Lord John Russell to William Ogilvie, Esq. 

My deae Sie, — I have learnt this evening that Mr. 
Silvester the Messenger is the last person arrived from 
Dublin, and is enabled to give the latest information of Lord 
Edward's health, and if what I hear be true I should con- 
ceive it essentially necessary that you should see him before 
you set out for Ireland. I trust in God that the accounts 
are greatly exaggerated, and I flatter myself that this ex- 
cellent young man will recover to prove to the World his 
innocence of the crimes laid to his charge by a persecuting 
and vindictive Government ; above all I trust that the 
Duchess will be enabled by Providence to bear with forti- 
tude this trying hour of affliction. May I hope that you 
will not attribute this intrusion on your time (which at this 
moment must be valuable) to any officious or impertinent 
zeal, but to its true motive, the sincere and heartfelt in- 
terest I have in the Duchess of Leinster's actual situation. 
Believe me, my dear Sir, with real Truth, — Your very 
sincere and faithful friend, John Russell. 

If you have good accounts of Ld. Edward's health, it 
would be gratifying to me if you would take the trouble to 
write a single line." 

Lady Louisa Conolly to William Ogilvie, Esq. 

"Dublin, June 4, 1798. 

" My dear Me. Ogilvie, — At two o'clock this morning, 
our beloved Edward was at peace ; and, as the tender and 
watchful mercy of God is ever over the afflicted, we have 
reason to suppose this dissolution took place at the moment 
that it was fittest it should do so. On Friday night, a very 
great lowness came on, that made those about him consider 
hhn much in danger. On Saturday, he seemed to have 
recovered the attack, but on that night was again attacked 
with spasms, that subsided again yesterday morning. But, 

166 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

in the course of the day, Mrs. Pakenham (from whom I had 
my constant accounts) thought it best to send an express 
for me. I came to town, and got leave to go, with my poor 
dear Henry, to see him. 

Thanks to the great God! our visit was timed to the 
moment that the wretched situation allowed of. His mind 
had been agitated for two days, and the feeling was enough 
gone, not to be overcome by the sight of his brother and me. 
We had the consolation of seeing and feeling that it was a 
pleasure to him. I first approached his bed : he looked at 
me, knew me, kissed me, and said (what will never depart 
from my ears), ' It is heaven to me to see you ! ' and, shortly 
after, turning to the other side of his bed, he said, ' I can't 
see you.' I went round, and he soon after kissed my hand, 
and smiled at me, which I shall never forget, though I saw 
death in his dear face at the time. I then told him that 
Henry was come. He said nothing that marked surprise at 
his being in Ireland, but expressed joy at hearing it, and 
said, ' Where is he, dear fellow ? ' 

Henry then took my place, and the two dear brothers 
frequently embraced each other, to the melting a heart of 
stone ; and yet God enabled both Henry and myself to 
remain quite composed. As every one left the room, we 
told him we only were with him. He said, ' That is very 
pleasant.' However, he remained silent, and I then brought 
in the subject of Lady Edward, and told him that I had not 
left her until I saw her on board ; and Henry told him of 
having met her on the road well. He said, ' And the chil- 
dren too ? — She is a charming woman ' : and then became 
silent again. That expression about Lady Edward proved 
to me, that his senses were much lulled, and that he did not 
feel his situation to be what it was ; but, thank God ! they 
were enough alive to receive pleasure from seeing his 
brother and me. Dear Henry, in particular, he looked at 
continually with an expression of pleasure. 

When we left him, we told him, that as he appeared 

Imprisonment and Death 


inclined to sleep, we would wish him a good night, and 
return in the morning. He said, ' Do, do ' ; but did not 
express any uneasiness at our leaving him. We accordingly 
tore ourselves away, and very shortly after, Mr. Garnet (the 
surgeon that attended him for the two days, upon the de- 
parture of Mr. Stone, the officer that had been constantly 
with him) sent me word that the last convulsions soon came 
on, and ended at two o'clock, so that we were within two 
hours and a half before the sad close to a life we prized so 
dearly. He sometimes said, ' I knew it must come to this, 
and we must all go ' ; and then rambled a little about 
militia, and numbers ; but upon my saying to him, ' It 
agitates you to talk upon those subjects,' he said, ' Well, 
I won't.' 

I hear that he frequently composed his dear mind with 
prayer, — was vastly devout, and, as late as yesterday even- 
ing, got Mr. Garnet, the surgeon, to read in the Bible the 
death of Christ, the subject picked out by himself, and 
seemed much composed by it. In short, my dear Mr. 
Ogilvie, we have every reason to think that his mind was 
made up to his situation, and can look to his present happy 
state with thanks for his release. Such a heart and such 
a mind may meet his God ! The friends that he was 
entangled with pushed his destruction forward, screening 
themselves behind his valuable character. God bless you ! 
The ship is just sailing, and Henry puts this into the post 
at Holyhead. — Ever yours, L. C." 

From an old family servant to Lady Maey FitzGekald. 

" I must, oh yes, I must write to you myself about your 
poor, — unfortunate, no, not unfortunate, but now happy 
Uncle Edward. Oh, yes, I must tell you that he is gone to 
everlasting happiness. The Almighty has withdrawn him 
from this wretched World ! Your Uncle and Lady Louisa 
saw him for a moment before he went to his God, and he 

168 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

knew them, and said it was heaven. He prayed a great 
deal since his confinement : he was full of confidence and 
hope in his God, through the merits of his blessed Lord and 
Kedeemer, he said, and at 2 o'clock this morning resign'cl 
his soul into the hands of that great, just and merciful 

Oh ! the horrors of last Sunday night ! how can they 
ever be forgotten : Yes my dear Lady Mary, at ten o'clock 
your dear respectable Aunt and your tender, affectionate, 
almost f ran tick Uncle left this house. Oh ! how does my 
heart follow them through the dark and dismal recesses of 
that prison, to that abode of misery, to that bed of death. 
Oh yes, my poor dear afflicted Friends, I as much witnessed 
the agonising scenes they went through, as if I had really 
been on the sad spot. Alas ! my loves, the kind visit was 
rather late, but, God be praised, your poor suffering Uncle 
knew them. Yes, my dears, seeing those two beloved faces 
smoothed his passage to a better world, and softened even 
the bitterness of death. I am sure it did, for he smiled, 
and said it was Heaven ! Oh, if you knew how your poor 
Uncle behaved during the time of his confinement. He was 
meek and gentle as a lamb, my dears ; his sufferings did 
not extort a single complaint: he did not murmur. He 
was all dignity, courage, patience, submission. He prayed 
to his God and trusted in Him. He had the Bible, that 
never-failing source of comfort, read to him, the death of 
his Saviour repeatedly. Burn this." 

It was on June 4 that Lord Edward breathed his 
last. On that and the preceding two days Dr. 
Armstrong Garnett, the surgeon who was in attend- 
ance upon him, kept a careful record of all that took 
place, from hour to hour, in his prison cell. This 
diary, which in 1898 was presented to Lord Frede- 
rick FitzGerald by Dr. Garnett s surviving grand- 

Imprisonment and Death 


children, I am able, thanks to Lord Frederick's 
courtesy, to reproduce here. 

"Newgate, June 2, 1798. 

" I was introduced to Lord Edward Fitzgerald by Cap** 
Stone at about half-past three o'Clock this day — his coun- 
tenance showed a great degree of wildness mixed with 
that kind of expression that accompanies pain. He thanked 
Cap 4, Stone for his attention to him, and expressed some 
sorrow at parting from him. I assured him that he should 
experience the utmost care from me in what regarded his 
health or his comfort, for which he thanked me, and 
added that it was comfortable to him to think that he 
should have a Medical Person near him. This Interview 
lasted but a few Minutes. 

I returned to his room in about half an hour, he then 
complained of some headache ; he feared, he said, that some 
degree of fever was coming on him ; his tongue was a little 
foul and his Pulse frequent and fluttering, his wounds he 
said were not painfull. I proposed leaving him alone that 
he might try to compose himself to sleep, as I hoped it 
would be of use to him, he asked me, If I was not to sleep 
in the next room to him. I answered that I was. He 
then asked me, If I slept soundly or was easily awoke. I 
answered that the least noise awoke me. — Having left him 
I set about pitching my bed and arranging matters in the 
room appointed for me. While I was employed in this 
manner one of the Prisoners ran into my room to say that 
they were preparing for an execution at the Front of the 
Prison, and in few minutes after a second Person ran in to 
make the same report. — The first Impression on my mind 
was that these People had come with the view of calling 
off my attention from Lord Edw d * and thus of affording 
an opportunity for some Person on the Watch to communi- 
cate with him. But the horror I have of being Witness to 

170 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

an execution would alone have defeated such a design. I con- 
tinued to arrange matters in my room : One of the windows 
of it looked into the Porch leading from the outer to the 
inner gate of the Prison. By looking obliquely thro' 
this window the space in the front of the Prison could 
be seen thro' the Barrs of the front gate; when these 
reports were made to me I looked out and seeing nothing 
like the crowd that attends executions I was the more 
strongly confirmed in my first Suspicion. It was now 
nearly five o'Clock. I ordered some dinner and went into 
Lord Edward's room. I asked him how he was, he answered 
pretty well. I asked him if his wounds were painfull, he 
answered, No, that he was easy. He then asked, ' Is not 
your name G-arnett, Sir ? ' I answered it was : he added, 1 1 
hope, Sir, I do not take you from more important occu- 
pations.' I answered that my most important occupation 
was the attendance on the sick, and that I trusted his Lord- 
ship would have no reason to complain of any want of care 
or vigilance. I mentioned that I had brought some books 
with me, and that I should be ready to read to him when- 
ever he was disposed to be amused in that way ; he thanked 
me and said he would trouble me sometimes when I thought 
it would not be hurtfull to him. While this conversation 
was passing I heard the trampling of horses, and a confused 
noise at the front of the Prison. On looking out at one 
of the windows of Lord Edward's room, I saw Parties of 
several of the Corps of Yeomanry drawing up at the front 
of the Prison ; this at once removed the Suspicions I had 
entertained, and I was satisfied that an execution was to 
take place. 

The noise and the words of those without, which were 
heard distinctly enough to convey an Idea of what was going 
forward, evidently agitated Lord E. The word Croppy was 
frequently repeated and damn all the Croppies, and I wish 
all the Croppies were hanged and exclamations to that 
effect, were frequently uttered ; I drew up the windows to 

Imprisonment and Death 171 

exclude the noise as much as possible, and I retired to my 
own room, lest he should enquire what the tumult proceeded 
from. On looking out at the window I saw that kind of 
expression on the countenances of the Yeomen that were 
attending, that showed they were listening to an address 
from the Criminal and I could hear a Serjeant, leaning on 
his Halbert, repeat after him that he died a bad soldier : 
almost immediately a sudden Crash made by the falling of 
the Machine on which the Criminal stood. And the ex- 
pression of countenance of those in attendance convinced 
me that he was launched into Eternity. 

While I was reflecting on the novelty of my situation, 
and had my thoughts awfully called to a consideration of 
what had taken place during the short time that I had 
been within these walls (it was 20 minutes after six), I was 
called by the man in attendance on Lord Edw d - with great 
hurry & eagerness. I found him in a state of excessive 
agitation, his tongue was thrust forward between his teeth 
and his Jaws were closed by the most rigid spasm. I forced 
his Jaws asunder with some difficulty by means of a spatula 
covered with linen, and thus defended his tongue from any 
further wound than it had already suffered. After about 
half an hour's attendance, the Spasm subsided and he spoke, 
he complained of the Involuntary Protrusion of his tongue, 
and of a troublesome catching about his Jaws ; his Wounds 
also, he said were painfull. By degrees, however, these 
symptoms subsided. The noise at the front of the Prison 
now increased, and the words ' Cut him down,' ' Cut him 
down ' were distinctly heard. Soon after I heard the words 
' don't touch him,' ' damn you, don't touch him,' and a shot 
was fired. All this evidently agitated Lord Edw d " and he 
immediately cried out, ' God look down upon those that 
suffer ! God preserve me and have Mercy on me, and on those 
that act with me! 

The troops that attended the execution soon began to 
retire, and he became calm. It was now a quarter past six, 

172 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

and the Nurse brought up some tarts for his dinner, he 
consented to eat them & I retired to my room where I 
made a hurried meal. Just as I had finished it Mr. Gregg 
(the G-oaler) came in : he informed me that the Criminal 
who had been executed was a young man of the name of 
Clinch, an officer of the Euthesol Corps, that he had been 
found guilty of joining the Eebels, by a Court-martial, and 
that he had acknowledged at the moment of his execution, 
in an address to the People, the Justice of his sentence and 
the fairness of his trial, he also said that he (Clinch) had 
added that the Country he lived in had all been sworn by a 

I went into Lord E.'s room at about a quarter before 
Seven o'Clock, he was very restless but expressed a desire to 
get some sleep. I begged that he would compose himself, 
and I told him that I would sit by him ; he thanked me 
and seemed pleased at the offer. I sat by him for some 
time, but he soon became extremely restless and insisted on 
Permission to walk about : I remonstrated with him on the 
impropriety of such an attempt, and warned him of the ill 
consequences to his health that would follow ; to this he 
answered ' that he did not wish to live,' ' that he was happy 
in the persuasion that he was dying for his country.' When 
I urged the danger of his agitating himself he answered 
' that it was cruel in me to resist his dying when he chose 
it,' ' that he would go to Heaven,' ' that God would receive 
him for having contributed to the Freedom of his Country,' 
' that he gloried in dying for his country, in rescuing it 
from his Tyrants,' ' that he had nothing to lament but his 
wife and Children but that his country would some time or 
another take care of them! ' He knew,' he said, ' that he 
would not live to be a Witness of the Freedom he had con- 
tributed to, but, that he would die happy as he would die in 
the cause of his country.' He said ' that he felt the most 
firm Persuasion of Eternal Salvation thro' the Merits of our 
Saviour ' : he declared himself ' convinced of the truth of 

Imprisonment and Death 


the Christian Eeligion,' that he believed all and would 
believe more if it was necessary. 

By degrees he became so violent that the man in attend- 
ance & I could not without difficulty confine him by force 
to the bed No remonstrance could restrain him ; he 
roared most impetuously and exerted a wonderfull degree of 
strength even with his wounded arm, he called me a Tyrant 
for not permitting him to die ; I said everything I could 
think of to dissuade him from agitating himself ; he cried 
out, 'Dear Ireland! I die for you! My Coimtry, You will 
be fret ! ' And then, ' Damn you ! Why don't you let me die ! 
I want to die. You are a Tyrant. If I had a knife I would 
kill myself/ I here remarked, ' My Lord, that would be a 
Violation of the Eeligion of which you profess yourself a 
Believer.' He again repeated, or he rather answered me 
by saving, 1 But I want to die. I want to go to the bosom 
of my Saviour.' His language now became most violent 
as well as his actions ; he proceeded to the most outrageous 
execrations, and continued uninterruptedly exclaiming in 
the loudest voice, 1 Damn you ! Damn you ! God damn 
you,' for upwards of twenty minutes. The entire of this 
Paroxysm of Mental Agitation and Madness lasted for an 
hour & a half. His loud vociferation assembled the People 
at the outside of the Prison, and such of the Prisoners as 
were at liberty to walk about assembled on the stairs 
leading to his room. Among these was Mr. Dowling, who 
was, more than any of the rest, anxious to get admission 
into his room; He urged me to give him leave to have 
access to him for a moment, adding that he was persuaded 
he could pacify him ; To this I consented with the hope, 
tho' without any well founded expectation, that he would 
be able to accomplish it. One consideration however 
prompted me not to refuse him admission. The shrieks of 
Lord Edw^ had been heard by every one in the Street 
and in the Prison. The agitation he was under, and the 
Violence with which he was exerting his wounded Limbs, 

174 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

could not fail to prove immediately or very soon fatal to 
him. Such an event might be ascribed to some unwarrant- 
able Violence offered to him ; as it is unquestionable that 
there are too many Persons ever ready to invent and Thou- 
sands ready to give Credit to the most execrable Calumnies. 
The best method of guarding against such a report, I con- 
ceived to consist in admitting the most particular of his 
friends that was within reach, to be a witness to his real 
state. He saw him, and spoke to him in my presence, but 
the same execrations which had been uttered without 
interruption, of ' Damn you ! Damn you ! ' was continued, 
and the same violent struggle made, nor had Mr. Dowling 
any more Influence than those who were already with him. 

The Surgeon Gen 1 " Dr. Lindsay, and Mr. Leake arrived 
when this state of agitation began to subside from its 
greatest height, but while it was still considerable : Dr. 
Lindsay brought some fruit which he told Lord Edw d- had 
been sent from Carton. — The Surgeon Gen 1, went to Mr. 
Kinsley's to provide some means of securing Lord E. in the 
night in case he should continue in the same state. On 
his return with Mr. Kinsley Lord E. was calm; he had 
exhausted his strength to a great degree, and his wounds 
were dressed. Soon after his wounds were dressed he again 
became restless. He complained of want of Sleep ; and 
begged that I would do something to allay the catching 
about his Jaws. I gave him a draught with 40 drops of 
Laudanum. He soon fell into a state of quietness but 
showed no disposition to sleep. At about Eleven o'Clock 
Mr. Kinsley came with a bedstead and straps &c, and he 
was removed with the Mattrass on which he lay on the 
bedstead, on which a Palliasse was previously placed, but as 
he was then quiet the straps were not used. 

\ past four. — Lord E. has continued quiet all night, but 
he has had no sleep ; he drank plentifully of Barley water 
and took wine & water once. He says that he feels himself 
better now, and that he thinks he is inclined to sleep. He 

Imprisonment and Death 


spoke in the night of a Dr. Barber, whom he said he wished 
greatly to see ; and he has just now desired that I would 
apply to Lord Castlereagh to write for him. 

| past six. — He has had no sleep, his Pulse has become 
more frequent and his Breathing very short. He says he 
is easy and free from pain. When I came into the room at 
this time he said with great earnestness, ' Would to God 
I had one thirty thousand Guineas this morning ! They 
would make thirty Thousand happy men/ I observed, 
'Your Lordship would distribute them generously.' He 
answered, ' A guinea would do a great deal with a poor 
man.' And he added with a momentary depression of 
countenance, ' And nothing can be done without money.' 

\ past seven. — His Pulse nutters excessively, and his 
breathing grows very short : he has expressed a desire for 
some tea when I get my Breakfast — the doors are not yet 

Nine o'Clock. — He has had a little sleep and his Pulse 
is somewhat more regular and firmer than it has been 
during the night. 

11 o'Clock. — This change in his pulse was of such short 
duration as scarcely to justify my having noted it; it is 
now rapid and irregular. (Mr. John Leeson called at about 
nine o'Clock to inquire for Lord Edw d- He came, he said, 
from Lord Henry Fitzgerald : I answered ' that he was 
very ill and I thought there was no reasonable hope of his 

While I sat by his bedside he observed to me, 1 1 have 
a Brother Henry that I doat on ; I wish greatly to see 
him, but that I suppose can not be allowed.' After a short 
Pause he said, ' I have a brother Leinster for whom I have 
a high respect. He might depend on every thing I did' 

1 1 have a brother Bob*- also,' he added, ' he is in 
Sweden : he is a very worthy and a very respectable young 
man, but/ he added, 'it was he that wrote that foolish 
Manifestoe of the Swiss, Lord how I laughed at it ! ' this 

176 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

he said with a most sarcastic expression of countenance. 1 
thought it prudent not to enter into any conversation re- 
specting his family, lest it should agitate him, or excite his 
wishes for an Interview with his brother Lord Henry, of 
whose being in Ireland he appeared to have had some 
intimation, or at least he strongly conjectured that he was. 
He requested that I would read a portion of the Bible to 
him. I asked ' what Part he chose ? ' he answered ' The 
account of our Saviour's death.' I read it from the Gospel 
of S 4, John and he listened with the utmost attention. 
When I had finished reading I took his hand to feel his 
Pulse; he asked me 'how long I thought it would last.' 
I answered 'that he was very ill and that a resolute en- 
deavour to compose his mind was most essential to him ' : 
he said ' that he was prepared for Death ; if the translation 
to a state of Eternal happiness could be called death.' 
' That he confided in the mercy of God and the purity of 
his own intentions.' 'That he had been zealous for the 
freedom of his country.' He seemed now to look back to 
the time of his Violence and derangement last Night, 
observing 'That the heads of men in his situation were 
often unsettled ' ; he said this with a look expressive of 
Apology to me for the violence of his actions and of his 
Language. He eat one or two mouthfulls of dry toast at 
about half ten, and drank a very small quantity of Tea, but 
evidently without relishing them. He eat a few straw- 
berries, and about a dozen Cherries, observing 'that they 
came from dear Carton' (this observation clearly evinces 
his Kecollection of last night) and he eat them with a good 

A Volume of Shakespear lay in the room. I asked him 
' If he admired his Plays,' he answered with vivacity ' That 
he did greatly ' ; and he asked me ' to read the speech on 
the immortality of the Soul,' but I believe that he had then 
in his view the speech in Cato, ' It must be so Plato, thou 
reasonest well, &c.,' for he immediately asked me ' If I 

Imprisonment and Death 


thought he could get Addison's Cato.' The volume of 
Shakespear contained some of the Comedies ; I read the 
titles of those it contained and asked if he had any desire 
to have a part of any of them read to him ; he answered 
1 that he could not now enter into them.' I breakfasted in 
the room with him, and while I waited for the tea-kettle he 
asked me with kindness if I did not intend to eat some- 

12 o'Clock. — He continued perfectly composed till near 
twelve o'Clock, at which time he became restless, and desired 
to get up — his wish was complied with, as his bed was in a 
disorderly state and he required a change of Linen. While 
he was sitting on the bedside the Surgeon Gen 1, Dr. Lindsay, 
Air. Leake and Mr. Gregg came in ; his wounds were dressed 
and had a favourable appearance notwithstanding the agita- 
tion of last ni^ht. 

1 o'Clock. — He has continued tranquil since except that 
he once entreated Permission to get up; but by soothing 
persuasions I prevailed on him to remain in bed. I requested 
him 'not to agitate himself by contending to get out of 
bed, that he had suffered greatly by his exertions of last 
night ' : he answered ' That he would try to stay in bed,' 
but ' that it was very cruel in me to confine him to it.' I 
answered, ' My Lord, you must be persuaded that your own 
health & safety are at stake and that my only motive can 
be a desire to contribute to them ' : on this he stretched out 
his hand to me and said ' I give you a great deal of trouble, 
Sir/ And he then expressed a desire to compose himself to 
sleep and I left the room. 

Two o'Clock. — Lord Edward sent for me at half past 
one o'Clock On my coming into the room and asking 
■ What I coidd do for him,' he answered 1 that he wished to 
talk to me about Eyan's wounds.' I told him 1 that I had 
not heard anything respecting him lately/ as I imagined it 
would shock him to hear of his death. He observed 1 That 
he had given him three damned gashes in the belly,' ' that 


178 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

he was sure his tripes must have been out ' ; he said that 
' he had fought like a Devil with five of them.' ' That if he 
could have got to a little window he could have escaped 
over the houses in disguise.' He then expressed an earnest 

desire to see he said he would be heard of at 2 

in . 3 That he would send for him. ' Their Sentiments 

(he said) (Lord E.'s & those of *) coincided so entirely 

that he wished greatly to have some conversation with 
him ' ; he said ' he was the first United Man in that 
Country.' He talked with enthusiasm of the Presbyterian 
Meeting houses being alternately crowded with Persons of 
their own and the Popish congregation. He said ' it was a 
glorious sight/ and ' that the Children were brought up in 
these Principles by .' 1 

J past three. — His Pulse is rapid attended with con- 
vulsive Twitchings, he bites his lips, and his eyes roll 
incessantly, and his countenance is flushed in a high degree. 
I remarked to him that he seemed agitated & he answered 
' I was only thinking.' He desired to see Cap 1, Eussell. 

5 o'Clock. — He is now pretty easy ; he was greatly dis- 
turbed, and very urgent to get out of bed, but by gentle 
persuasions I prevailed on him to relinquish the desire. I 
allowed him to sit on the bedside, warmly covered with the 
bed cloths for a few minutes about half an hour ago and he 
has been quiet since. In the course of my sitting by him I 
inquired 'what Eegiments his Lordship had been in'; he 
answered 'in the 54th & 19th.' — 'Had he been long in the 
army ? ' he answered ' that he had served in the American 
War,' and added that 1 he hoped, God would forgive him/ 
— I mentioned that I had heard Major Brown, of the 
Engineers, talk with esteem and respect for him ; he replied 
that he knew him and that he was a very worthy fellow. 

\ past four. — His pulse is small and very frequent, the 
spasmodic Twitchings not so considerable. He eat about 
half a dozen heads of Asparagus at four o'clock. 

1 Dr. Barber. 2 Mr. Mercer. 3 Gloucester. 4 The North. 

Imprisonment and Death 


12 o'clock. — He continued tolerably quiet till 8 o'Clock 
when his wounds were dressed; his breathing, however, 
became hourly more and more difficult, and his strength 
was evidently sinking rapidly. After his wound was dressed 
and he was settled in bed, he made one vigorous attempt to 
get up and grew extremely restless — he raved on addressing 
the People ; talked of Principles, and being up ; and at one 
time said ' If you had done so you must have gone to 
America.' He turned to me as I sat at the head of his 
bed and asked me ' If I was not too high to be heard from 
where I was,' I answered ' No,' he then said 1 Well that is 
a good thing.' ' Can they hear you from where you are ? * 
I answered 1 They could,' he then said ' Well then, stay up 
as you are there.' In this kind of state he continued till 
about a quarter after ten o'Clock when Lord Clare accom- 
panied by Lady Louisa Connolly and Lord Henry Fitzgerald 
& Dr. Lindsay were admitted to him. The scene was a 
most affecting one and such as I shall not attempt to de- 
scribe. When Lady L. C. and his brother first went to his 
bedside he appeared not to know them. I went over and 
called his attention to them, mentioning who they were ; 
he then called Lady L. C. his dear Aunt & embraced her, 
and his Brother most warmly, but his attention soon wan- 
dered from them. They continued with him for upwards of 
an hour : during a part of that time I was in the room and 
during the remainder I was in the adjoining room with 
L d * Clare who appeared greatly moved, and unwilling to 
remain in the room. He raved while they were with him 
of battles between the Insurgents in the North & some 
regiments of Militia, he particularly named the Fermanagh 
Militia, and talked of a battle at Armagh that lasted for 
two days. 

After their departure his mind continued in the same 
deranged state ; and he took no notice of their having been 
with him. 

| past twelve. — Within this half hour his Deglutition, 

180 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

which heretofore has been perfectly free, has been much 
impeded, and his dissolution is evidently approaching 

Two o'Clock. — After a violent struggle that commenced 
at a little after twelve o'clock this ill-fated young man has 
just drawn his last breath. 

J. Armstrong Garnett. 

June 4, 1798." 

Lady Sarah Napier to Lady Sophia FitzGerald. 

"June '98. 

" Every time I try to write to one of my much-loved 
afflicted family, a thousand difficulties start up, and I 
say — Why should I write ? Can they doubt my feelings ! 
no, no. Then why renew theirs ? but can that be renewed 
which has never stopped ? — and will not my long silence 
seem unkind ? Who shall I address — the choice is equal in 
sorrow — but differs in accidental circumstances — My Dear 
Dear Sister ! I dare not write to her ! I leave that to the 
all-consoling soothing powers of the Angel Louisa, and 
shrink from the task humbled by my own inferiority and 
only desirous to do good — not to indulge myself. 

My poor dear little Pamela I can write to because the 
immediate intercourse we lately had paves the sorrowful 
way to grief more easily. To the heart-broken Lucy I 
almost fear to write lest I should inadvertently increase 
those strong emotions which her late acquaintance with 
many local circumstances must naturally render more 
powerful than in my dear tender-hearted Sophia, whose 
softened sensations partake of her natural character, and 
melt all into slow and I fear most lasting grief. Cecilia I 
would not disturb by a letter. Mimi is too much occupied 
in the care of others. Dear Henry I would wish to write 
to, but dread doing harm, because He is before my eyes 
whose Grief received such wounds Here as raises the Daemon 

Imprisonment and Death 


of anger too strong within me. To you, therefore, my 
Dearest unhappy Sophia, will I address myself to request 
such accounts as you can best give me of the situation of 
mind of each individual of your family — that's all I ask — 
and what I have to say is only a repetition of all you have 
heard and felt, for deeply is all engraved on my memory : 
but it is wonderful to think how difficult it is to obtain any 
common intelligence upon that tender subject so that a 
thousand trifling particulars which in all other cases one 
enquires and treasures up, — are in this denied to us, partly 
from mysterious nothings which envelope that event which 
the Brutes must in self-defence try to insinuate was neces- 
sary, and still more from accidental occurrences which the 
Times have produced — such as follows : 

Donny and I have had no communication whatever with 
a Castle person, male or female, except Lady Londonderry, 
and she entreated to be received here with Such expressions 
of misery for what had happened, that she carried her point, 
and from her I found much confirmation of my opinion of 
the general plan adopted at the Castle, viz. — To throw a 
mysterious Cloud over the most trifling subject so as to give 
importance to everything, to insinuate such dangers as 
would awaken every horror, to bring the Public mind to 
believe each individually saved from the general wreck by 
the wisdom of Government, — and on that ground to make 
every harsh thing appear necessary and every seeming 
deviation from cruelty appear the utmost stretch of mercy, — 
always reserving to themselves the power of preventing the 
truth from coming forth to open sight, and even now they 
trust only to its faded collours to skreen their schemes from 
Public detestation, shame and disgrace. This History of 
their plot I can see most clearly, and the History of another 
plot — they can never prove ; but it makes it impossible to 
ask any questions, for were I to seem anxious they would 
build a new plot on it. As we see none of them every 
application I could make must be a measure, and therefore 

182 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

I'm depriv'd of asking for several things I wish much to 
obtain: the first is Mr. Stone of the Londonderry Kegt.'s 
account of all that he remembers — the next is that Surgeon's 
(who was called in latterly) remarks. But I fear I shall 
hear only lies, for unless I knew these men I cannot guess 
if they would not be afraid to tell me truth. However, my 
object is to obtain this account whenever I can, but during 
this dreadful War, there is no communication with anybody 
at a distance. My sister tells me all the dear Angel's 
clothes were put up and are now at Leinster House for 
Henry, so that any little indulgence of that kind is not now 
to be had. My sister has some of his hair. My Brother's 1 
Conduct on this occasion has made a deep impression on my 
mind ; for I who know him thoroughly am persuaded that 
the sentiments which urged him to it are so acceptable in 
the eyes of God who searches our hearts that My dear 
Brother will be blessed by success in his tender attonement 
to the Wife and Children of one he loved, though worldly 
ideas estranged him from doing him all justice — his gener- 
ously stepping forth to do all he can, has made me do all 
in my power to encourage Pamela in loving him as he cer- 
tainly deserves it of her: and she is, I hear, inclined to 
grateful feelings which, I hope, nobody will disturb, altho' 
they may not feel them themselves, for Pamela's situation 
is peculiar, and she will, I hope, receive comfort when it is 
kindly held out to her." 

1 The Duke of Richmond. 



Before passing from the tragedy of Lord Edward's 
death to the sad after years of his wife's life, the 
reader will find a wise and temperate summing-up 
of the whole matter contained in two letters from 
Lord Edward's aunts. Lady Louisa Conolly's vindi- 
cation of Lady Edward is the more remarkable and 
valuable because of her admission that she had her- 
self at one time been affected by the prejudice 
against her, while Lady Sarah's account of the 
Rebellion after it had been crushed is judicial in 
its impartiality, and indirectly bears witness that in 
her opinion Lord Edward was very different in his 
intentions from the men whose actions she so severely 
condemns. To these two letters I have added two 
papers of Lady Lucy's — a patriotic, not to say 
rebellious, address to the people of Ireland (written 
in the first heat of her indignation against her 
brother's enemies, but never published), and a letter 
of dedication to Thomas Paine — and also a short 
appreciation of Lord Edward by Lady Louisa. 

Lady Lucy FitzGerald to the Irish Nation. 

" Irishmen, Countrymen, it is Ed. FitzgdVs sister who 
addresses you : it is a woman, but that woman is his sister : 


184 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

she would therefore die for you as he did. I don't mean to 
remind you of what he did for you. 'Twas no more than 
his duty. Without ambition he resigned every blessing 
this world could afford to be of use to you, to his country- 
men whom he loved better than himself, but in this he did 
no more than his duty ; he was a Paddy and no more ; he 
desired no other title than this. He never deserted you, — 
will you desert yourselves ? This was his only ambition, 
and will you ever forget yourselves ? Will you forfeit this 
title, which it is still in your power to enoble ? Will you 
disgrace it ? Will you make it the scoff of your triumphant 
Enemies, while 'tis in your power to raise it beyond all 
other glory to immortality ? Yes, this is the moment, the 
precious moment which must either stamp with Infamy the 
name of Irishmen and denote you for ever wretched, in- 
slaved to the power of England, or raise the Paddies to the 
consequence which they deserve and which England shall 
no longer withhold, to happiness, freedom, glory. These are 
but names as yet to you, my Countrymen. As yet you are 
strangers to the reality with the power in your hands to 
realise them. One noble struggle and you will gain, you 
will enjoy them for ever. — Your devoted Countrywoman, 

L. F." 

Lady Lucy FitzGerald to Thomas Payne, Esq. 

" Citizen, In those happy days when I dwelt under the 
humble roof of my beloved Brother Ed. your picture orna- 
mented his Chimney. As the small circle drew round the fire, 
their eyes rested on the resemblance of the Author of the 
Eights of Man. Citizen, although he was unsuccessful in 
the glorious attempt of liberating his country from slavery, 
still he was not unworthy of the lessons you taught him. 
Accept then his picture from his unhappy sister. Its place 
is in your house : my heart will be satisfied with such a 
Pantheon : it knows no consolation but the approbation of 

The Situation Reviewed 


such men as you and the soothing recollection that he did 
his duty and died, faithful to the cause of liberty for his 

Lady Louisa Coxolly to the Duke of Kichmoxd. 

" I now come to that dear unhappy Lady Edward, 
whose grief affected her in the manner that I should haYe 
expected. It is her constitution to be hysterical, and after 
what she has undergone, I only wonder at her keeping her 
senses. I cannot express the pleasure it gave me to hear 
that you had taken her under your protection ; Her 
peculiar situation calls for kindness. Her present distress 
would move anybody, but prior to it, I thought her entitled 
to all the countenance that his friends could show her. 
The prejudice against her on account of her family connec- 
tions, 1 was very natural, and strong (as I confess to have 
felt myself), to so shameful a degree, as to take myself to 
task about it, when first she married. I got over it, from 
(I hope) just principles, which ever must condemn the 
faults of parents being remembered to the innocent 
children. However wrong it was, the fact was so in 
Ireland, that the most illiberal prejudice prevailed against 
her, and' nothing but her attractive, pretty, original, pleas- 
ing manners conquered it all. For a time they killed the 
dislike of her, but within these two years, that poor Edward 
withdrew a good deal from his old circle of acquaintances, 
and that his opinions began to be known, and construed 
into a decided intention of bringing in the French, the 
fault was instantly laid upon her, and so positive are some 
persons, in the belief that she influenced him, that in latter 
times it amounted to an accusation of her being implicated 
in treasonable practices. Now, my dear Brother, I feel 
myself called upon to defend her, from the most thorough 

1 The reader will notice that in this passage Lady Louisa takes for 
granted Lady Edward's connection with the Orleans family. 

186 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

conviction that she is wronged : that she should converse 
with and be acquainted with poor Edward's opinions, and 
adoring him as she did, naturally fall into them, nobody 
can wonder at ; but so far from encouraging him to act upon 
those opinions I have been witness to her good sense in 
discouraging them, and more than once have I seen her 
listen with pleasure to the little opposite arguments that I 
have held with him ; and knowing how much he loved me 
she always appeared anxious that I should have weight 
with him, particularly after her return from Hamboro, she 
seemed more decided than ever in lamenting revolutions, 
and said very naturally to me one day, how could she think 
of such things without horror, after having lost everything 
that was dear to her in the French Eevolution. The speech 
was so natural that I believed her without difficulty : that 
when dear Edward was keeping himself concealed that she 
should tell some plausible story to prevent his being 
detected was also not only natural, but meritorious, and 
where is the wife to be found that would not do so, and 
how detestable that woman would be that had done other- 
wise. This I verily believe is the summit of her guilt. 

However the idea prevailed so strongly, that it was 
upon that notion that she was sent from Ireland, after that 
he was taken. I thought it very hard upon her, as I did 
not see the probability of her being able to carry on any 
plot. However he wished her out of the country, and as 
things have turned out (as she would not have been allowed 
to see him), I believe it has happened for the best. But I 
do pity her from my heart, and soul. Her character is 
a great one, for what she must have endured for above two 
months (knowing him to be in Dublin), must have been 
dreadful. Her lying in happened in that time, and yet 
thro' it all she had the resolution to carry it off with the 
greatest propriety of manners, which shows her equal to 
great firmness of mind when called upon. She has Extreme 
good sense, great quickness in discerning characters, excel- 

The Situation Reviewed 187 

lent good religious principles, warm-hearted and affectionate, 
vast propriety of manners, very pleasing talents, a degree 
of knowledge about everything, without the least affecta- 
tion, lively, merry and engaging : and a taste for the world, 
which I often thought much more calculated for Aristo- 
cratic than Democratic principles. She was so devoted to 
her dear husband that she would have preferred living in a 
hut with him to all the palaces upon earth, but that pro- 
ceeded from love, more than natural taste, and I have seen 
her submit to a great deal of solitude and exclusion from 
society to suit herself to the way of life that he lived. She 
is certainly an Excellent Creature that I love upon being 
acquainted with, and as the Irish world has been hard upon 
her, I wish to do her all the service in my power by saying 
what I really think of her." 

Lady Sarah Napier to Lady Lucy FitzGerald. 

" I am very uneasy lest the letter I wrote my beloved 
sister a few days past should have disturbed the Composure 
which she has so heroically forced herself to adopt, that 
any letter from a new correspondent should affect her one 
knows must be the case : and if a fit of crying only is its 
consequence, I trust in God that according to her own 
account to me in former griefs it rather is of service when 
over. But if it has had more than that effect I shall be 
miserable. I beg of you to write me word, the Truth. 
Don't mind blaming me if I have done wrong, for painful 
as feeling oneself wrong is I am ready to risk it for the sake 
of truth that I may form my stile to my unhappy sister's 
present condition of mind, for till I have resumed the habit 
of corresponding with her, I must feel the common lot of 
separation which commonly ends in a degree of coolness 
that would make me wretched to be sensible of from her, 
whom I love much more like a Mother than a Sister. You 
described to me, my Dearest Lucy, when first you came to 

188 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

Ireland the Value of such a Mother ! with an enthusiastic 
attachment and grateful heart that did not surprise me, for 
I well remembered her such to me ; but I rejoiced to think 
that age had in no degree lessened those Powers of tender 
natural affection which she possessed in so eminent a degree. 
Perhaps I ought now to be sorry Age has not had its usual 
effect, but I am not, and I see it has not, for she is economis- 
ing her feelings when they are of no avail to preserve them 
for the consolation of others. Such powers are too precious 
not to hope for their existence still. I could not in a first 
letter avoid opening my heart fully. While I feel strong 
resentment and just abhorrence of unrepented crimes, I scorn 
to disguise my thoughts, but if I am once well understood, 
I have, God knows, no pleasure in dwelling on the subject 
when no amendment can be hoped for. All my dread is 
being ranked with those who from Virtues beyond my 
reach, or from apathy I have not in my nature, or from 
some selfish views I never felt, are fallen into forgetfulness 
and apparent forgiveness of crimes, which ought not to 
be allowed " to put that flattering unction to their souls 
that not their — but our sorrows speak." I should feel 
myself the meanest unworthy relation to a large and much 
beloved Family could I stoop to hide the hatred and con- 
tempt I feel towards their oppressors. Yet I blame nobody 
who acts otherwise because they have not the same sensa- 
tions. But everybody ought to speak as they feel. I have 
felt great relief from the absence of almost all Ministerial 
Persons from Castletown for 6 months. I have seen Lord 
Castlereagh but once ; the rest of that sett but seldom, and 
always studdied my conversation so prudently as to impress 
them with the dread of my entering into any interesting 
subject, lest they should hear truths from me that they are 
all conscious that they ought not to have deserved. This 
makes our meetings far from pleasant, but it saves me from 
what I wish to avoid, paining my Dear Sister Louisa's feel- 
ings. Don't imagine she is not nearly as much au fait as 

The Situation Reviewed 


me, but she excuses, doubts, pardons, and forces herself to 
show no sign of displeasure, because she has as usual, trans- 
ferred a wrong thing into unkindness only to her, and 
therefore she has an opportunity of exerting her self-denial 
and Christian forgiveness in the Highest Degree, by calling 
it all want of kindness to Her ; she hopes to forget as easily 
as she forgives, and she succeeds in both. How wrong 
therefore would it be for me to counteract her religious 
exertions by showing plainly I don't blame it only as 
unkind to her, but as unfeeling in itself. One must there- 
fore be content to touch their sensibility by a reserve which 
they cannot mistake, and indeed I try to make my two 
daughters follow my example and refrain from going one 
step further, particularly Emily whose duty calls on her to 
make one affection fight the other, so as to do right by both. 
But it is with the utmost difficulty I have persuaded both 
my affectionate warm-hearted girls to preserve the least 
appearance of forgiveness when they have such strong anger. 
They profess themselves Lady Edward's friends, and as such 
they profess to hate all her oppressors, and those who 
approve of it. I cannot but love them most affectionately 
for the sentiment and the boldness to support their just 
attachment. The only thing I fear is their letting my 
sister see that their anger falls on what she loves and 
believes quite guiltless. For she herself is as warm as 
possible in the cause when she thinks it is deserved, as for 
example : — The Speaker she supposes a chief agent, and to 
Miss Charlotte Burgh Louisa let out all her anger in ten 
times stronger words than I ever used. We all congratu- 
lated her on having thus Publicly said : — ' The greatest 
comfort I have in Castletown is that I may chuse my society, 
and never let those set their foot in it who have leagued 
against the Duke of Leinster's family to persecute it by 
false Witnesses for the sake of Money, and who are watch- 
ing in hopes to criminate him to get his estate by the same 
false unlawful means they have robbed the Widow and the 

190 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

Orphan. When such men as Eeynolds are to be believed 
as Angels of Truth, I am sure my word would go for 
nothing, though I can prove him a Lyar, and therefore I 
have done with Dublin Society.' Charlotte Burgh was 
thunderstruck, and we all hoped Louisa's annimated Eesent- 
ment would do Honour to the whole Family, when behold 
she repents of having spoke truth, has called herself to task 
for violence and unchristian sentiments. Of course if 
chance put the speaker in her way he would believe C. 
Burgh lied — and she redoubles her kindness to those she 
fears she was unjust to by being angry. When Eeligion 
conquers Eeason, it becomes enthusiasm. Dear angel, she 
is so attached to the system of Humility, that the world 
may trample on her without her perceiving it. For every 
now and then her natural Noble spirit rises in its natural 
beauty and she assumes the advantages which superior 
goodness and proper independent Pride has assigned to its 
possessor for the purpose of keeping bad people in order — 
but the enthusiasm ruins all, — except her Private Worth : 
nothing can tarnish that. Alas, my dear Lucy, in all 
situations the same causes produce the same effects. 
Enthusiasm could not tarnish the mind of a noble, gener- 
ous, benevolent spirited individual — but it rendered all 
those Qualities useless to the world at large, dangerous to 
those who came within a nearer circle, and was of advantage 
only to the Possessor, whose cause it has pleaded before 
High Heaven, where the Heart is known. 

You are, I believe, a little afraid I should take your 
rebuke ill about the Courage of Irishmen, which you say 
I wrote in derision. Perhaps I did, for I own myself 
provoked at those who bullied with oaths, imprecations, 
and all horrible threats towards the poor unhappy Labourer 
— Old man and Boy — to force them into a service they had 
no disposition or cause to follow, and then setting these 
unfortunate forced Eecruits in the front left them to bear 
the brunt of many battles, while the Gentlemen with strong 

The Situation Reviewed 


Pikes, who might have stood their ground at least, and 
retreated to their Bogs with some credit,, threw down their 
Pikes instantaneously at the sight of a Bed-coat, and hid 
in ditches, where they were slaughtered like sheep. I grant 
my Pity has ever accompanied them. Guilty or not then 
situation always called forth my compassion. But I cannot 
call spirit what is mere momentary dash, like Hounds set 
on they know not what. It is the self -same want of courage 
that acted on the Irish Soldiers, who let themselves be set 
at the wretched Peasant, and pursued hini when he ran. as 
hounds do Game. What else but this shamefid want of 
steady courage founded on Treason is the cause that our 
Troops ran before the French ! They had been accustomed 
to fight cowards in a cowardly manner, and therefore all 
sense of true courage was lost on both sides. But in the 
Criticism I do not include all. Many, many on both sides 
have shown great Bravery, and at Tara, Wexford and many 
places shown true spirit. Therefore I am very willing to 
submit to the superior wisdom of Donnv. who says that 
there are no better soldiers than the Irish, and that if they 
had been well commanded they would have done wonders. 
Indeed he reckons that all "War depends for its success on 
the heads who guide it, whom he thinks require numberless 
qualifications to direct ; — some knowledge of the Art, some 
resource in themselves, and some Spirit, are absolutely 
indispensable, and he says none of the Irish leaders on 
either side showed an attorn of these qualities, — and the 
English still less. Xot but that there were many good 
officers, but they had no opportirnities given them to act. 
and the direction of the War was given to Chancellors, 
Speakers, Bishops, Secretaries. — the execution by very weak 
people indeed Therefore he is in astonishment at the want 
of Capacity among the United leaders, when they had so 
little to do to conquer. General More 1 (son to Dr. More) is 
the only man who had power and skill at the same time. 
1 General Sir John Moore, the hero of Corunna. 

192 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

He saved Wexford, &c, &c, and his Humanity has since 
equalled his Bravery, skill, and conduct. We never saw 
him, so it is not partiality that makes him out as most 
praiseworthy. I hope Donny's praise of your Country 
Men's Courage will more than make up for my Attack — but 
I cannot disguise the rage I have so often felt to see them 
act so opposite to my Ideas of Spirit. Let it be granted 
that a Eebel thinks he has Just Cause. Then let him 
bravely sacrifice himself to the cause and save others. I 
respect his Courage, and only lament its being tried in an 
Erroneous Cause. I do not jpity him, if he falls, because he 
willingly embarked on it — but I doubly pity his friends for 
losing so noble a character. Whereas when the leaders 
carry off with them by the power of Fear a thousand poor 
wretches merely to fill the ranks of Death, I call him a 
Coward whose fears are only for the individual body which 
his mean soul animates. A truly great man is a Coward 
for others, never for himself. You talk of the English with 
asperity as if they were the cause of misfortunes in Ireland. 
I make allowance for National Prejudice, and, I suppose, 
my own. The English are by nature soft, gentle, good- 
humoured, and not tyrannical. They are selfish and 
covetuous, I allow : but in general very Irish. The Irish 
are violent, clever, witty, but furiously tyrannical and cruel 
to each other. They are not selfish, and they are hospitable, 
but Justice is not in their Dictionary. Why should the 
Superior Character in mental powers be subservient to 
the weaker if some unknown cause did not produce this 
Phenomena ? Is it not because Lyars betray themselves 
into the hands of their enemies, who cannot respect and 
therefore illtreat them ? This naturally causes rage in the 
Irish Heart, and revenge follows. Thus cruelty is added 
to Lying, and self-defence makes the Englishman Wary, 
cautious and steady. Thus he keeps the Superiority by the 
common laws of Nature, and the Clever Paddy ruins his 
own case. It is evident he is formed to be governed, and 

The Situation Reviewed 193 

if well governed all his Qualities will change from bad to 
good, and make him superlatively excellent, for the same 
materials that form faults may form virtues. You will 
perhaps say in answer, ' Agreed : let Ireland be governed 
well, and with all respect to Laics, that's what I wish, but 
let it not be by Foreigners.' This sounds so Just that I 
should think it worth Petitioning the King never to allow 
one Englishman or Foreigner to have any Place or Power 
here — If unhappily I did not see such dreadful Proofs of 
Irishmen being the very worst of Tyrants over their own 
Countrymen — Clare, Foster, Toler, Wolfe, Castlereagh, 
Carhampton, Beresfords, &c, &c, down to any creature 
who is Paid by Irish money to destroy Irish prosperity 
and Comfort. Who can see this and not think English 
Government lest ? It is for this that I am not sorry for 
the Union with England, which will certainly take place, 
and all these reptiles will fall back into their own 

I am convinced that nothing is so improvident as to 
harbour Opinions diametrically opposite to two contending 
Parties, but I must do, when I see both so much in the 
wrong, and the result of this is great melancholy in looking 
forward to what is to happen. I wish most ardently that 
the United Irishmen, finding that no good whatever arises 
from Rebellion, may give it up sincerely. The French seem 
clear that to conquer Ireland is the only way to deal with 
her, and I trust France will find that too hard a task. 
Consequently we shall fall more than ever under the 
Tyranny of the English Government, — but have we not 
deserved it by opening such a Field to their rapacity, to 
their revenge, to their Injustice ? Why did we give them 
an excuse for doing ten times more wrong than ever and 
put it so completely in their power ? By having trodden 
down the ordinary course of law we have allowed them 
to retaliate with myriads of false witnesses and overcome 
all Justice. We must submit to the infliction we have 


194 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

brought on, and during our lives the ill blood that must 
work in our Hearts gives no prospect of Comfort. But 
it does not follow that we must despair. Our children will, 
I hope, see better days. Take notice of the Events we have 
seen. In the midst of Horrors, an Honest Humane Man 
comes to govern by the very means that caused the Ee- 
bellion, viz. English Influence. Yet no sooner does he see 
with his own eyes than he stops all cruelty, and, to use his 
own expression, longs to sweeten that bad blood which violence 
has made. Unluckily he confines his whole attention to 
Military Objects, and therefore Government goes on un- 
known to him, as it did, nearly. But you must confess 
that one Honest Man can do much if empowered to do 
good, and why should we doubt but that the King will in 
future seek out better men than he has hitherto had the 
good luck to find. I would never Despair, because Provi- 
dence may punish us justly, but it never forsakes us. I say 
We, because I feel all the punishments which others have 
procured, tho' neither a Eebel, a Publican, of an Orange 
sect, or a Government person — and I might say it is hard 
I am to suffer who did not offend. But I do not complain : 
it is the Wheel of Fortune that runs round by Heavenly 
Direction, and as such I am resigned to much sorrow, for 
I never more expect real cheerful happy times ; tho' we 
Great folks may forget our sorrows in Company of enjoy- 
ments of all the Comforts of Life, we can never forget the 
many lives lost so near us and the consequent wretchedness 
of the poor. Shall we not be reminded of this sad thought 
when the annual time recurrs in which we are to make up 
a poor subsistance for the Widow and Orphans of that 
Angel who dyed to promote the cause of Independance ? 
What a sad reverse. How painful to one's feelings. The 
more or less makes no difference in the misfortune of 
masking dependance to that dear Pamela — but it makes an 
essential difference in her confined Comforts. I wish the 
sum was double. Our means being small, we can only mark 

The Situation Revtewee 


our good will without any Promt to her — but since so very 
large a family can make up in numbers what it is not, I 
suppose, convenient to them to give in quantity, 20£ per 
annum will find a place in the List as the willing tribute 
of Poverty to the most unalterable Friendship. For the 
instant that Donny heard such an Idea existed he ordered 
me to inquire to whom I should send a Draft for that small 
ram on our banker or agent (for we have no such thing as 
separate money). As the determination flowed from his 
warm Heart, with the tears glistening in his eyes, I will 
ask to have it put down in his name, satisfied that my Dear 
Pamela knows my heart too well to doubt me. 

From all I learn by degrees from the dear Fitzgeralds, 
I plainly see Pamela must have liked going to Hamburgh, 
which at first I could not pursuade myself was possible, but 
to my great surprise I find Prejudice has far greater power 
in England than in Ireland from the lower orders to the 
higher, which is by no means the case here, and shows the 
superior sense of the Irish. When they are violent against 
a poor unpopular object, it is not conviction : it is a decided 
measure, not a mistake. 

I wish my dearest Lucy that you could find some 
pleasure in writing to me of the objects that surround you. 
I wish you not to write what may be turned against you if 
read, for tho' you are indifferent to the opinion of the 
World, your friends are not so for you. I know your 
Brother Leinster wishes your letters to Mary did not keep 
up any resolutions that lead to Political opinions, because, 
tho' unhappily our private family interests were so united 
to Public interests that we could not separate them in the 
Instance of the dear Edwards — yet now the link is broken, 
and Women undoubtedly cannot enter into much con- 
sideration on Political subjects without assuming a conse- 
quence in tb:se Events which no Man can wish his sister 
or daughter to do, in leaving her private opinions (which 
undoubtedly must originate from attachment to individuals) 

196 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

to the mercy of the Post-Office, &c. &c. To control one's 
own thoughts by the Kules of Worldly Prejudice would be 
mean — but to trust the Post-Office with reserve is surely 
wise among very Young Women who have not a Husband's 
support in the abuse they may get in the Gossipping Circles 
of the World. 

The News of to-day are that Wolfe Tone, the man 
who first set the Idea of making Ireland a Eepublic, and 
to compass it proposed leading them on by slow and false 
ideas to his purpose, is now taken in the Hoche, arrived at 
Lough Swilly. That he must suffer is past a doubt. I 
grieve for his friends, but I cannot pity those who think 
they are in a Glorious Cause. Their own hearts can best 
tell them if they used no bye-paths and crooked ways to do 
what they think right. At the same time, though my mind 
is made up to these sentiments, yet these melancholy events 
never recur without strong sensations of melancholy on the 
Times : To think that Battles, murders, and Executions 
are grown so familiar to us that it only causes sorrow, and 
not that sort of horror which it ought to do ! So dread- 
fully does custom take off the sharp edges of sensibility. 
The poor men who have hitherto fallen by Law — Thank 
God, I did not know, and I pity those who did from my 
heart and soul. Holt is not much talked of now. I believe 
the poor creature is lying wounded somewhere. The Spirit 
of rising is suppressed, but not extinguished, and therefore 
I tremble lest many, many lives still be lost. God grant 
some sudden Event, which Providence always has in store, 
may decide in our favour and save Bloodshed. 

This day a most humane Company of Soldiers with two 
good officers left this Town, and we hear of none to replace 
them. This will put us on the alert, for 100 poor souls 
were let out of Naas gaol this week, and il faut manger, — 
of course they must rob. If they don't murder I will 
forgive them. All the Castletown people were tried 
and acquitted. None had murdered, and of course I am 

The Situation Reviewed 197 

glad they have escaped from further punishments — but 15 
murderers are condemned, I am told for proved cruelty. 
I hope you will see Lord Cornwallis' conduct about an 
infamous Court Martial. Adieu: the next I write shall 
be all about family concerns, for I always hope no Public 
news will occur. By the way, Danny don't believe one 
word about Buonaparte's surrender. He traces all the 
counterfeit throughout." 

Lady Louisa Coxolly to the Duchess of Leixstee. 

'• I have had no time for indulgence, nor can I allow it 
myself yet, but go on like a machine from morning till 
night, catching at the little momentary enjoyments of fresh 
air, the smell of mown grass, and flowers. And now and 
then, a morning's attention to the Harvest coming Home. 
But the eagerness and delight that used to attend these 
occupations is so mixed with pangs of grief, that I some- 
times fly from them, and endeavour to occupy myself with 
the stupid details of House economy where no happy or 
pleasing remembrances can mix. God's will be done ! and 
a happier World I trust we shall all meet in. Our beloved 
Child is already there ; his motives for action flow'd from 
the purest source, tho' we have to lament that Human 
Xature being imperfect, every attempt beyond the ordinary 
bound of Eeason must fail let the object be ever so desir- 
able. But God, who knows the Heart, can appreciate the 
value of the intention, and to his fatherly bosom we may 
commit all our anxieties and cares." 



After what the poor Duchess called the Fatal Year, 
the Sad, sad Year, the Wretched Year, the interest 
of the situation changes. The husband, loved, lov- 
ing, self-sacrificing, mistaken (as we in our superior 
wisdom can see), is dead. His girl-wife and his three 
little children are left to face the world. At the 
best an unkind world, headed by a small-minded 
and spiteful Government. The Attainder Bill which 
was passed shortly after his death, and not repealed 
till twenty years later, was a poor-spirited and petty 
proceeding. Its only effect was to deprive four 
helpless creatures of their small estate, without even 
any apparent gain to the cause of law and order. 
Legally and morally indefensible, it pretended, con- 
trary to the first principle of British law, to adjudge 
a man guilty who had never been put upon his trial, 
and succeeded only in wreaking its vengeance upon 
the innocent. Far from being, as the Government 
alleged, an example likely to deter others, it but 
added to the list of fatuous aggravations by which 
they embittered the Nation they were trying to 
control. But enough of this subject. What was 
to become of its victims ? That was the question 


Lady Edward in Hamburgh 199 

which the Duchess and the rest of the family were 
called upon to face in the months of June and July. 

" We are neither of us," she writes, " in a state at present, 
my beloved Henry, to touch on a subject so Heart-rending 
and distracting as all that has passed within these three 
last months of wretchedness : but I am sure you will be 
glad to know from myself that I am much better, thanks to 
Almighty God. 

The Dear little interesting Pamela, who must ever be 
an object Dear precious and sacred to all our Hearts, has 
often expressed a desire of seeing you. 

I wish for your advice and opinion in regard to her 
future destination, as I know it will in great part be deter- 
mined by that I give her, and I am really afraid of recom- 
mending any particular plan to her for that very reason, 
but, I think, we cou'd talk it over more comfortably together. 
There is no need of hurry, for she is welcome, I am sure, 
to stay here (at Goodwood) as long as she likes, for my 
Brother is extremely fond of her, and enters into her situa- 
tion with Parental solicitude. Indeed she is one that must 
move all hearts and claims all our protection, tenderness 
and attention. You, my dear Henry, were the chosen Per- 
son for this duty, but we are all ready to share it with you. 
She seems at present much undecided about going to Ham- 
burgh. Mrs. Matthiessen's pressing letters, the cheapness 
of hving, and being perhaps more in the way of seeing those 
who might give her information as to the small chance she 
may have of recovering her Property, are all inducements 
to go. On the other hand, she hates leaving his family, to 
whom she is naturally drawn by affection ; she hates the 
appearance as well as the reality of separating herself from 
us, and wishes us to witness the propriety and good sense 
with which she always has and always will guide all her 
actions, and which the ill-nature that has prevail'd against 
her makes more particularly necessary in her case than in 

200 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

any other. She is a charming Creature, and the more one 
is acquainted with her real Character, the more one esteems 
and loves it. But, were she not so, he adored her, he is 
gone ! this is an indissoluble chain that must ever bind her 
to our hearts." 

Three days later Lady Edward wrote herself to 
Lord Henry : 

" The Person who gave me your letter is Men grognon, so 
I did not talk to him about my affairs. But in your eyes 
I cannot change, and I can never forget your conduct. 
Him I neither like nor respect. He would like me to go 
to Hamburgh to get rid of me, but I cannot leave this 
country without knowing exactly the state of my affairs in 
Ireland ; that is my first duty to my children. To go now 
would be the act of a fool. As for Hamburgh there is 
always time to go there. There I have friends who cannot 
change. Tell me, my dear brother, what you think. Advise 
me. Adieu, dear brother, his beloved brother whom I loved 
so much and shall always adore." 

The Duke of Eichmond to the Duchess of Leinstee. 

" June 17, '98. 

" I know you must feel, and bitterly so, for one who was 
so dear to you, and who whatever faults he might have, had 
a most warm and affectionate heart. I need not say that 
the only disagreement I ever had with him was on account 
of his engaging too far in these sad politicks, and that I 
have now no other wish than to be as kind as possible to 
those He loved. His poor wife, towards whom in his last 
moments he expressed much affection, has really become a 
most interesting object . . . nothing can have behaved 
better than she has done ... I do perceive such cruel 
and unrelenting ill-nature against her in the world, that I 
do believe it may be better for her to leave a country where 

Lady Edward in Hamburgh 


she meets with so little justice from the generality of man- 
kind, and to settle with her friends abroad." 

(Docketed "June 19th of the wretched year.") 

Lady Edward FitzGerald to the Duchess of Leixster. 

" June 19. 

"My ever Dearest Mother, — Je n'ai pas besoin de 
vous dire quelle impatience j'ai de vous serrer contre mon 
triste coeur, et de voir mon fils, ce fils que J'adore, et le seul 
que j'ai. Maman, il est a vous. Je vous l'ai confie dans 
le terns de mon Bonheur, et je vous le confie maintenant 
comme mon plus grand tresor. Qu'il Eessemble a son Pere. 
Oh, mais qu'il soit plus heureux : c'est le souhait de sa 
malheureuse mere. Adieu ; je ne puis en dire davantage." 

(Docketed " Dear Lady Edward, giving me 
her treasure.") 

Lord Henry FitzGerald to the Duchess of Leinster. 

" July '98. 

" We will talk over what seems best to be done about 
that unfortunate dear little soul, who is indeed to be pitied. 
Oh God, I believe that even she knows little what she has 
lost. She could not fully know. None knew but those 
who had been blessed with the Experience of years the 
value of what is gone. Heavy, heavy does it fall upon 
those, God knows. I do not mean to say that she was 
insensible of His worth. Oh no. But there is an impres- 
sion, a stamp, which years alone affixes in the Heart 
which surpasses all insight into character less sanctioned 
by time." 

Very soon, however, it was settled in family con- 
clave that Lady Edward should leave England, and 
at the beginning of August she left Goodwood, and 

202 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

stayed for a day or two with Lady Sophia, on her 
way to Hamburgh. 

" August 5. — You, I fear, my dear Sophy," writes the 
Duchess, " will have been agitated with the arrival of our 
dearest Pamela and her sweet children. May God bless 
and protect them from their cruel Persecutors. What 
wretches they have shown themselves ! Death itself would 
not assuage their malice and satisfy their resentment. Oh, 
my dear Sophy, what a scene it has been ! How necessary 
it is to practice what Blair recommends, to consider them 
only as instruments in the hands of Providence ! but no 
more on this subject ! it cannot be dwelt on without sensa- 
tions too powerful for our reason. . . ." 

" August 20. — She has I hope had a good passage, poor 
dear little soul ! Indeed, my dear Sophia, it was better 
she went away. I could give you many reasons that you 
wou'd think Good. As to money, she told me she should 
receive 600 pounds from Mr. de Valence, a legacy from 
poor old Sillery, as soon as she was at Hamburg, which 
will keep her there, she told me, a long time in affluence. 
Whether the unjust and cruel proceedings in Ireland will 
deprive her of her estate in Ireland, we do not yet know. 
It is time enough then to consider what can be done for 
her. Dear Angel ! at present we can barely keep our- 
selves, but in time it is to be hoped things may mend. 
Mr. O.'s Generosity in great things can never be call'd in 
question, and his attachment to her Dear Husband will 
make him act towards his widow and children accordingly. 
It is now unlucky for them that he made him a present of 
£1200 on his marriage and destroyed that bond, for had he 
kept it till now it must have been pay'd off the Estate even 
if forfeited, and they might now have had it, which would 
have been at least something sav'd." 

On the 13 th of August, Lady Edward arrived in 
Hamburgh, and wrote at once to Lady Lucy. 

Lady Edward in Hamburgh 203 

" Mon ami, que je pense a vous et a la derniere con- 
versation que j'ai eue avec vous. Ma Lucy, oui, vous savez 
aimer. Je me rappellerai toujours des moments demurrants, 
tristes et doux, que j'ai passes a Goodwood dans les bras de 
mes Parents. Que j'ai besoin de recevoir une lettre de toi, 
que j'ai besoin que tu dises que tu m'aimeras toujours, que je 
suis ta sceur, l'epouse de ce Frere cheri ! Ma Lucy, mon 
coeur se brise lorsque je pense a mon sort infortune. Love 
to our Dearest Dear Mama, et a la Belle et aimable Ante 
Mimi. Baisers a mon petit fils. Oh ! que je l'aime . . . 
que de choses Precieuses j'ai laisees en Angleterre. Que 
tous les Anges du Ciel vous benisent." 

Before the end of the year she wrote several 
further letters to Lady Lucy. One or two extracts 
will be enough to give a general idea of their 
contents. She seems at this time to have acquired 
a prejudice against Mr. Ogilvie, which, to judge from 
his known actions on her behalf, was quite ground- 
less, and must be put down to the fanciful ideas 
natural to one in her nervous condition. Her rela- 
tions with the Duke of Eichmond, on the other 
hand, were always cordial, — more than cordial accord- 
ing to some of the busy bodies of Dublin, who 
asserted that he had offered her marriage ; quite the 
reverse, according to others. 

" Think of the unrelenting ill-nature of Dublin," says 
Emily Ogilvie, "still endeavouring to abuse dear Ly. Ed. 
The report now is that the Duke of Eichmond at first liked 
her of all things, but that when he became acquainted with 
her character, he disliked her as much ; that latterly at 
Goodwood they quarrelled, and that he at last quite turned 
her out of his house. Do you hear often from Lady Ed. ? 
Does she continue in the town of Hamburgh ? Has not 

204 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

Madame Mathiessen a house in the country ? The chancellor 
is returned from England quite for an Union. As to the 
speaker, 'tis supposed a promise to pay him his debts or 
£100,000 will bring him round. C. Nero Beresford's toast 
at the head of his Orange set the other day was, ' May the 
fate of Cesar attend the first Senator who proposes an 
Union with England.' So I think there is a possibility we 
shall see the Orange men now, resisting the decrees of 

It is hardly necessary to say that these reports 
about Lady Edward and the Duke were as false as 
they were ill-natured. 

" You say," she writes, " that the Duke of Eichmond 
has the goodness to interest himself in my affairs. I am 
truly grateful for his kindness, and I am sure it is for my 
good and the good of my precious children. But I should 
prefer Mr. Ogilvie's having nothing to do with them: he 
would bring me misfortune, and I don't believe in the 
interest which he wishes to show me just now. To tell 
you the truth I believe that all attempts will be useless. 
If it were not for my children I should make no efforts. 
They have taken from me what they can never give me 
back. Just Heaven, how unhappy I am. Dear tender 
Lucy, the longer I live the more I see what I have lost. 
My life will pass in monotonous indifference. To tell the 
truth, it is I who exist no longer; when I think of the 
sweet and horrible past I cannot understand why I am not 
dead. Oh, Providence is all wise, though it is often very 
severe. It knows how to prepare us for the worst ills. The 
same Being invented the Autumn so that the severities of 
Winter should seem to us less harsh. As for me I have 
long been prepared for all the horrors through which 1 
have passed. For I know men. I know that Vice is 
always triumphant and Virtue always oppressed. Yes, I 

Lady Edward in Hamburgh 


cherish Virtue, but it is a Platonic love, for one gets nothing 
from it. 

Now I am going to tell you of the life I lead here : it 
is sweet, and, if I could forget, I could call myself happy. 
My friend Mrs. Mathiessen is kindness itself to me. She 
loves me and there is a great charm in knowing that one is 
loved. Her husband too is very kind and both help to 
make my life agreeable. We are in Hamburgh, as Mr. 
Mathiessen has come in on business and I have left my 
precious pretty little Pamela in the country, for I think the 
country is better for her and I would rather deprive myself 
of the great pleasure of seeing her every minute of the day 
than make her ill." 

Meanwhile the FitzGeralds were taking steps to 
raise a small sum between them for the support of 
their brother's widow and his child Pamela. The 
boy, little Eddy, always lived with his grandmother, 
and the youngest child Lucy with Lady Sophia at 
Thames Ditton. In the following note to Lady Lucy, 
Lady Edward alludes to this promised payment : 

" You are very good, ma tres chere, to join in the Plan 
which our brother has arranged so that your Brother's 
widow should not live on charity. It is he who has had 
this thought, but I am sure my dear Lucy joined willingly 
in it. I am pleased, for it would have been very hard to 
live entirely on the Mathiessen's bounty. They have a good 
fortune, but are not enormously rich. My arrangement 
with them is to pay a pension of £100 a year, which is very 
moderate for the increase which I make in their manage. 
The other £100 will be for my and Pamela's Entretiens, and 
to pay my people." 

A little later Lady Lucy wrote to Lady Sophia 
about this same money. 

206 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

" I hope Henry has wrote or sent the paper we talk'd of 
round to the Brothers and Sisters in regard to dear Ldy. 
Edward. I feel uneasy till it is done, for our credit ; for 
Dear Pam is easy, knowing it is to be. Mamma expects it 
every day that she may put down her name: tell Henry 
that as the Duke of Kichmond gives £25 I shall write to let 
Aunt Louisa know. I can do it through Aunt Sarah, whom 
I sometimes write to. Tell Henry I was amused at the 
good the Duke of Kichmond has produced in regard to the 
lawyer's money, which, it is now allowed among us, Henry 
must be assisted in. God bless you, Darling." 

The payment of this money appears to have 
ceased after two or three years, at the time of 
Lady Edwards marriage to Mr. Pitcairn. It should 
be remembered that the family were not rich ; Lady 
Sarah, for instance, in promising, with many loving 
words for Pamela, to pay her mite, expressly says 
that she and Colonel Napier were very poor ; and 
yet the total sum promised was so small, and the 
protestations of love towards her on the part of the 
whole family had always been so great, that Lady 
Edward seems to have had some cause for the tone 
of the following complaint addressed to Lady Sophia 
in April 1804 : 

" I thank you for your good loving letter. You are the 
only one who answers my letters. Lucy no longer answers 
my letters. I cannot understand the forgetfulness of all 
my relations. It makes me very wretched. Two months 
ago I wrote to the Duchess on very important matters, and 
she has not yet answered. I am going to write to Lord 
Henry as the guardian of my children, to entreat him to 
have the goodness to send some money for her. It is 
shameful that for three long years it is Mr. Pitcairn who 

Lady Edward in Hamburgh 


supports Miss Fitzgerald. The Duchess has always promised 
me £60, and I don't receive a soil Pamela is growing. I 
must educate her. . . . Je demande que Ton aye la bonte de 
m'envoyer £180 sterling. Dans une famille qui est si Eiche 
ce nest pas une forte somme. Mr. Pitcairn ne peut plus 
me donner d'argent. Je suis dans le grand embarras. Je 
vous supplie de prendre pitie de ma situation et si vous 
avez la moindre amitie pour moi, envoyez moi cette somme 
d'argent ; sans cela il m'arrivera des choses tres desagre- 

The rest of the letter is full of loving inquiries 
about the family. A few days later she writes : 

" I cannot lose a moment in answering your letter, 
especially to correct a misunderstanding. You think I 
have the effrontery to ask you for £180. No, my dear 
Sophia. In proportion you do far more than your share for 
the family of your unhappy Brother. But I ask for the 
sum of £60 a year for the Education of Miss FitzGerald. 
That is not much for her entretien and masters. For three 
years I have not received a farthing, and that makes quite 
£180. I don't ask you to give a farthing more. 

If Mr. O. is afraid of my keeping the money to make a 
dot for Mr. Pitcairn's children, I can send in my accounts 
every year ; it is much more suitable that Miss Fitzgerald 
should get money from her relations : her education and 
maintenance can't cost less than £60. I only ask the 
money for her, and it is her right, and I have not received a 
farthing since my marriage to Mr. P. Mr. Ogilvie and Lord 
H. treat me like a child, for though he is my children's 
guardian, he won't write me a word about the arrangement 
of the Irish estate. 

Here is a list of the people who have promised me £60. 
Mr. Ogilvie says that the Duke of Leinster owes 5, the 
Duke of Richmond 10, the Duchess of Leinster 5, Lady 

208 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

Louisa 10, Lucy 3 J, Charlotte 3 J, Lord Henry, Lord Charles, 
Lord Eobert, Charles Fox and Lord Holland 5 each. Je ne 

comprends pas lien cette affaire. I wrote four months ago to 
Lady Louisa, Lady Sarah, the Duke of Leinster, Emily 
Napier, five times to Lucy Foley, once to Lady Bellamont, 
once to Lady Charlotte, twice to the Duke of Eichmond. 

Pas une settle lettre de toutes ees Personnes. Faites les Savoir, 
je vous prie" 

What Lady Edward could not understand in 
1804 it is not much easier for us to understand 
to-day. And, if we compare with the fact that even 
Lady Lucy had ceased to write to her, the letter 
which she did write after her death, already quoted, 
full of love and pity for her memory, the difficulty 
is only increased. As regards the non-payment of 
the money, it is comparatively easy to exonerate 
the family ; they had always, as has been said, 
undertaken the upbringing of two of the children ; 
Eddy was sent to Eton, and subsequently little 
Pamela also went to join her sister Lucy at Thames 
Ditton, where she was living with Lady Sophia. 
And, although at the time when this letter was 
written she was still with her mother in Hamburgh, 
it was open to the FitzGeralds to say that Mr. 
Pitcairn, who had married Lady Edward, was the 
person naturally responsible for paying her daughter s 
expenses, as long as she remained with her mother. 
But the pitiable part of the matter is the gradual 
estrangement which had taken place between Lady 
Edward and those who had once loved her so dearly, 
and for whom she, on her part, professed, and did 
her best to keep up, all her old affection. 

Lady Edward in Hamburgh 


" Tell me," she writes to Lady Sophia., " about all of 
them. Tell me what Lucy is doing. Lucy, that tender 
loving friend, has quite forgotten me. I cannot understand 
this change. I haven't deserved it. If she is still with 
you, tell her I shall love her to my last breath. I was 
much moved the other day : in arranging my papers I found 
a great packet of letters from Lucy, but alas they are of a 
very ancient date. I wept. My eyes are only too accus- 
tomed to teai-s. 

" Great God ! Two posts and I haven't heard how my 
little Lucy is. I know you love her like a mother : so pity 
her mother and give her news of that dear child. Pamela 
is getting quite a big girL She is nine years old, and 
we had a birthday party. Alas, nine years ago, how happy 
I was. My Edward ! Alas my heart is breaking. I 
tremble. The older I grow and the further my past mis- 
fortunes are removed, the more I suffer from them. I hope 
that Death will soon come and put an end to all my heart's 
suffering. Good-bye, my friend, — your true friend." 

The fact that Lady Lucy of all the family should 
have neglected her once beloved sister seems to show 
that although she and the rest of the FitzGeralds 
were, to judge from their written expressions of 
feeling, quite glad and pleased at Lady Edward's 
marriage to Mr. Pitcairn, vet in their hearts thev 
unconsciously condemned her for so soon seeming to 
forget their brother. One of her nieces, who was 
in Paris at the time of her death, did actually refuse 
to attend her funeral, on the ground that all acquaint- 
ance with her had ceased, in consequence of her 
second marriage. And on the whole it is natural 
that they should have had this feeling. Human 
nature, and especially Irish human nature, is always 

210 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

ready to resent fancied slights to the objects of its 
warmest affections ; just as Irish hearts, for all their 
warm and impulsive feelings, are more liable than 
others to the forgetfulness that is begotten of ab- 
sence. One thing is certain, that it was no lightness 
of conduct on the part of Lady Edward which was 
the cause of her gradual estrangement from the 
family, a family which every line of these letters 
shows to have been unusually loving and lovable. 

The following letter of Lady Sarah Napier's, 
written immediately before the Pitcairn marriage, 
is printed especially for the benefit of those sour- 
dispositioned scribes who have recently renewed the 
attempt to fasten scandal upon her name : 

" Dear Pamela can never be left out of the list of your 
family as one of the most interesting objects. I hope Time 
will ripen her Judgement, and that she will soon lose that 
false French Idea qu'il faut un Mat. It's very natural for 
her to have it, and her dependant state is full excuse for 
the mistake, — but a mistake it is, to believe Marriage alone, 
independent of the Object, a happy state. I know of few 
men, worthy of her. I heartily hope if there are such they 
may come in her way, and make the lonely life she is likely 
to pass as happy as regrets will admit of — but I find no 
such Idea is now in agitation, and I heard so pleasant 
an account of her lately that I beg you to tell it to Henry 
from his two Aunts, as a piece of news that will rejoice his 
warm and affectionate heart, if he happened not to hear of 
it before. 

There is a Sir James Crawford who came over about the 
wretched Napper Tandy's Trial. He is a great Government 
Man of course — he dined at Castletown. As I live in 
Dublin I did not happen to meet him then — but Mr. 

Lady Edward in Hamburgh 211 

Conolly (as I heard the story from Emily Napier) said to 
my sister, ' You had better ask Sir James about Lady 
Edward.' ' No,' said my sister, 1 he is a Government Man 
and of course prejudiced against her, and none of us have 
courage to start the subject for fear of exposing ourselves 
to a scene of crying,' etc. ' Good God,' said Conolly, ' what 
a nonsensical false delicacy that is — for he will think you 
renounce her or are angry with her by your silence. I will 
contradict that.' Mr. Conolly accordingly spoke to Sir 
James in all our names to enquire after Lady Edward. He 
replied, 1 1 am delighted you have given me an opportunity 
of mentioning that Lady, which I wished to do, but finding 
her family silent, I was so too. Lady Edward is well in 
health, naturally of a lively turn of mind ; she is cheerful, 
but never appears to lose sight of her misfortunes. Her 
spirits are checked by a turn of thought that prevents them 
from running away with her. Her Conduct is admirable, 
her Society the very best, picked and chosen from the 
original Eevolutionists, no party, no violence, and the House 
of the Mathiessons the most respectable in Hamburg, — in 
short her friends could not wish her conduct to be altered 
in the most trifling respect.' 

My sister then gave full vent to all her feelings and her 
affection for Pamela, and among other things said — 'We 
heard she was to be married, and we hope she will be happy, 
and most sincerely approve of her doing so, but we can 
never think anybody good enough for her.' ' I cannot say 
as to her marriage,' said Sir James, ' for I do not visit Ly. 
Edward, tho' I am often in company with her, but I rather 
think she won't marry, for, of all those spoke of for her, 
Turner's was scouted by all Hambourg as a scandal raised 
to hurt her; Pitcairn admired her, but it was thought 
she would not accept of him — and the same with a 
Colonel Harcourt ; in short you may rely on it her Con- 
duct is perfect, and as such it is praised, as such she is 

212 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

Now dear Sophia, is not this a delightful Sound to our 
ears ? pray spread it about and quote Sir J. Crawford, who 
is a dull, matter of fact, honest Man, who asserts truth, 
sans peur et sans reproche, and it will stop the mouths of all 
impertinent people who lye to one's face with a degree of 
impudence I cannot bear ; and it will also make prejudiced 
and unjust people reflect that to blacken her character won't 
do, and argues only their own guilt, which can forget the 
laws of Christianity so far, as to assert things detrimental 
to the welfare of a fellow creature, without having witnessed 
the facts themselves." 

Lady Edward was married to Mr. Pitcairn in 
1800, and, not long after the birth of their one child, 
a daughter named Helen (afterwards Mrs M'Corquo- 
dale), a separation took place between them, owing, 
I may say, to no fault of Lady Edward's. The 
attitude of the FitzGeralds towards her at the time 
of the marriage as expressed in writing, is fairly 
represented by the following extract from a letter 
of the Duchess's to Lady Sophia, dated January 30, 

" As to your alarm about your Lucy I truly hope it is 
groundless. No Woman marrying again wou'd wish to 
Burthen her Husband with children unprovided for, and 
your fortune will secure you the possession of the little 
angel! As to Eddy I trust to what I know his Mother 
always wish'd, that of his getting an English Education, and 
to her attachment to me, for she knows my Heart and Soul 
is wrapped up in him : her letters to Lucy are in the same 
style as you say yours are and seem to refer to some Letter 
of information she has wrote, but never was received. So 
that we are as much in the dark as you are, except that she 
hints at living in America, so that we don't doubt that it is 

Lady Edward in Hamburgh 


the Consul Mr. Pit cairn from the States at Hamburgh. We 
have enquired about his character, which is excellent and I 
therefore hope the Dear little soul will find an end to all 
her troubles and sorrows and pass her Days in Peace after 
the storms of her youth." 



In attempting to give a true account of Lady 
Edward's life, I have so far touched but lightly 
upon the vexed question of her parentage. It is a 
subject with which various writers have dealt at 
various times, without arriving at any very definite 
conclusion, and I do not pretend to be in a better 
position than they to pronounce a final verdict. 
But at the same time, as these letters do contain some 
evidence bearing on the point, and as the matter 
has always excited a certain amount of interest in 
the minds of those who have studied it, it may be 
as well to compare that evidence with such facts and 
theories as have already appeared in print. 

We must necessarily begin with the oft-told 
story by which Mme. de Genlis, the governess of 
the Duke of Orleans' children, herself accounted for 
Pamela's introduction into the Orleans household. 
Her statement was that with the object of securing 
for the benefit of her royal pupils the companionship 
of an English-speaking child, she commissioned a 
Mr. Forth (whose business was the purchase of 
English thoroughbreds for the Duke's stable) to 
find her a little girl suitable for the purpose, and 


Madame de Genus. 

From a miniature. 

The Question of Parentage 215 

that Mr. Forth found what was wanted in the 
person of Pamela, a lovely child of five, then known 
as Nancy Simms, and living in Christchurch with 
her mother. The mother's circumstances were so 
reduced that in return for the promise of a small 
yearly pension she consented to part with her 
daughter, and Mr. Forth was accordingly able to 
despatch to the Duke "the prettiest little girl (and 
the handsomest mare) in England." Mme. de Genlis 
further declared that Nancy Simms was born in 
Fogo, in Newfoundland, and that her father's name 
was Seymour. 

Taken by itself this story is simple enough, 
though it may be remarked in passing that Nancy's 
acquaintance with the English language at the age 
of five must have been rather inadequate for the 
purpose which it was intended to serve, and that 
Mr. Forth might have been expected to look rather 
higher in the social scale when searching for a child 
who was to be the daily companion of princes and 
princesses. But, at the time, it was commonly be- 
lieved that the story was an invention, and that 
Mme. de Genlis and the Duke of Orleans were her 
real parents. It was openly hinted that the date of 
Pamela's birth coincided with a temporary retire- 
ment of Mme. de Genlis to the English town of Spa 
in 1776, though she herself always declared that 
Pamela had been born three years earlier. The chief 
reasons for the popular belief, which was apparently 
shared by the Duchess of Orleans, were the facts 
that the Duke, who was not otherwise famed for 
generosity, gave Pamela a dot of 1500 livres on her 

216 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

fifteenth birthday ; that his son, Louis Philippe, 
allowed his late governess a pension of 12,000 francs, 
one-third of which was to go to Pamela ; and that 
there was supposed to be a strong likeness between 
Pamela and the Orleans family. A French news- 
paper of November 17, 1831, in discussing the ques- 
tion of her possible relationship to the Duke, spoke 
as follows : " Quoi qu'il en soit elle fut installee au 
couvent de Belle-Chasse, et elev^e avec les princes 
et les princesses comme une compagne, comme une 
amie ; elle eut les memes maitres, elle obtint les 
meines soins, prit part aux memes jeux, et son 
etonnante ressemblance avec les enfants du due 
l'aurait, sans son accent etr anger, fait prendre pour 
leur sceur." With regard to her likeness to her 
reputed mother, an examination of their respective 
miniatures (on pp. 214, 236) will enable the curious 
to decide for themselves what amount of truth there 
was in Horace Walpole's caustic remark that Mme. de 
Genlis had educated Pamela to be very like herself 
in face. 

The general disbelief of her story was streng- 
thened by the variations which she introduced into 
it at the time of Pamela's marriage to Lord Edward. 
The girl who had at first been described as Nancy 
Simms (her father's name being Seymour) was entered 
in the contract of the civil marriage as Anne Caroline 
Stephanie Simms, daughter, not of the late Mr. 
Seymour, but of Guillaume de Brixey and Mary 
Simms, while in the religious contract of the same 
date she appears as the daughter of William Berkeley 
and Mary Simms. It is possible that Berkeley may 

The Question of Parentage 217 

be a clerical error for Brixey, but it is not so easy to 
account for the disappearance of Mr. Seymour's name. 
Moreover, in the first document Pamela's birthplace 
is set down as " Fogo, in the island of Newfound- 
land," and in the second as "London." It is not 
therefore surprising, in consideration of these dis- 
crepancies, that the whole story, both at the time 
and in later days, has been received with a certain 
amount of in credulity. Mr. Martin MacDermott, 
who some years ago published a new edition of 
Moore's life of Lord Edward, with many valuable 
additions of his own, goes so far as to say that 
" Mme. de Genlis' astounding fiction about the birth 
of Pamela ' at Fogo, in the island of Newfoundland,' 
will not stand the test of investigation." 

On the other hand, two facts to which attention 
has been drawn by Miss Ida Taylor, in her Life of 
Lord Edward FitzGerald, do certainly to some 
extent go to support the Fogo story, although they 
do not explain the contradictions of the marriage- 
contracts. Miss Taylor points out that Southey has 
stated in his Commonplace Book that in the year 1797 
he was told in Christchurch that a woman of the name 
of Simms (who came from Bristol) had resided there a 
few years before with an only daughter of about five 
years of age, and that their child had been sent to 
France to serve as a companion to the daughter of the 
Duke of Orleans. She also states that a Mr. James 
FitzGerald, a magistrate in Fogo, had been told by an 
inhabitant of that place that a relation of his named 
Simms had sailed for Bristol shortly after the sup- 
posed date of Pamela's birth in a vessel commanded 

218 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

by a Frenchman named Brixey, taking with her 
her infant daughter Nancy. This certainly appears 
to be a piece of curiously confirmatory evidence, 
though the fact that the captain of the ship bore 
the name, or rather one of the names, of the man 
who, according to one of Mme. de Genlis' statements, 
was the real father of Nancy Simms (or Seymour, 
or de Brixey, or Berkeley), only serves to make con- 
fusion worse confounded. 

The FitzGeralds themselves undoubtedly believed 
that the Duke was her father. They subscribed to 
a paper called the Masonic Magazine, in which 
she was described at the time of her marriage as 
" Pamela Capet, daughter of H.R.H. the Ci-devant 
Due d'Orleans," and they never took any steps to 
contradict that announcement. Nor did they ques- 
tion the assertion made by Moore in the first two 
editions of his life of Lord Edward, that she was the 
daughter of the Duke and Madame de Genlis, a 
statement which remained on record till, in 1831, 
at the request of a supporter of the Orleans family, 
it was suppressed, — after both Mme. de Genlis and 
Lady Edward were dead. 

The internal evidence of the five or six hundred 
family letters and papers which I have studied, 
though it, too, is not free from contradictions, is, 
on the whole, as it seems to me, in favour of the 
Orleans theory. The Duchess of Leinster and Lord 
Henry FitzGerald several times allude to Mme. de 
Genlis as " her mother," and General de Valence, 
who married an undoubted daughter of Mme. de 
Genlis, in writing to Lady Lucy, talks of Pamela 

The Question of Parentage 219 

as " ma soeur." There is also a letter in Lady 
Edward's handwriting, addressed to her daughter, 
Lady Campbell, at a time when she was in great 
distress, and was not likely to pick her words, in 
which she, twice over, uses the words " ma mere," 
when she could have been talking of no one but 
Mme. de Genlis. And lastly, in 1831, Lady Camp- 
bell, in writing to Ladv Edward on the death of the 
famous gouvernante, began her letter as follows : 

" Chere Maman, J'ai souffert avec toi : j'etois 
sure combien la perte de Me. de Genlis te seroit 
sensible, — ta mere enfln, car cetoit la, le lien ? " — 
" Your mother, in fact, — for that was the connection, 
was it not ? " 

The weight of these scattered references to the 
supposed relationship between Mme. de Genlis and 
Pamela is not lessened by their obvious want of 
design. As unpremeditated utterances occurring in 
the course of private and familiar correspondence, 
they convey the impression that the writers, without 
being in any way proud of the relationship, accepted 
it as a matter of fact. Pamela, Lady Campbell, 
Lady Edward's eldest daughter, has left on record 
a statement (which will be found given at length 
in the Appendix) which shows that her mother was 
certainly not inclined to boast about her supposed 
origin, the story of which she has been accused of 
inventing herself. In the course of a somewhat 
heated conversation between the two, at which Lady 
Campbell was present, Mme. de Genlis having 
taunted her with believing that she was her 
daughter, Lady Edward replied with some spirit, 

220 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

" Si je la suis, il n'y a pas de quoi se vanter." I 
should add that with the important exception of that 
one sentence in her letter to her mother, all that 
Lady Campbell says on the subject looks as though 
she herself was inclined to doubt the truth of the 
story. She expressly states that Lady Edward told 
her that Mme. de Genlis had never given her any 
reason to believe that she was her mother. Once 
again the curious in the matter must decide for 
themselves whether to attach most weight to this 
statement or to the "ma mere," and " ta mere enfin," 
of the letters quoted above. The probability is, that 
both the Pamelas were as much in the dark as every- 
one but the two people who alone were in a position 
to know the actual facts, and that, while not devoid 
of suspicions, they did not give much thought to 
the subject, feeling that, if the story were true, " il 
n 'y a pas de quoi se vanter." 

The fact related by Lady Campbell of a Mr. 
Symes, or Simms, having called upon Lady Edward 
in '98, expressing his wish to be of service to her 
on the grounds of his knowing the family, cannot, 
I think, be accepted as actual proof of the relation- 
ship between Pamela and Mary Simms. It was 
quite natural that a member of the family of Simms 
and an inhabitant of Fogo, where Mme. de Genlis' 
story was well known, should have been inclined to 
accept it, and have wished to make the acquaintance 
of his supposed relative in her new and exalted 
sphere of life, without having any special knowledge 
as to its truth. Whether it was true or not will, 
as I have already said, probably never be proved. 

The Question of Parentage 


But before leaving the subject it may be of interest 
to point out that the alleged resemblance between 
Lady Edward and Mine, de Genlis has been curiously 
transmitted to some of Pamela's descendants. The 
supporter of the Orleans family, at whose request 
Moore contradicted his first assertion that Lady 
Edward was the daughter of Egalite, was the Vicomte 
de Chabot ; his wife was Lady Isabella FitzGerald, 
a niece of Lord Edward's, who never forgave her 
aunt the fancied disrespect for his memory which 
she saw in her second marriage to Mr. Pitcairn, in 
which frame of mind she refused to be present at 
Ladv Edward's funeral, though she was in Paris at 
the time. In after years, their eldest son, the Comte 
de Jarnac, who himself married a FitzGerald, used 
to visit his mother's relations in Ireland, and I have 
been told by Mrs. James Swinton (the grand- 
daughter of Lord Henry), that he frequently re- 
marked to her on the likeness between Lady 
Campbell's daughters and the Orleans family, saying 
that there was " no doubt " about Lady Edward's 
relationship to the Duke. 

In still later times, in fact only a few years ago, 
a great-grandson of Lady Edward's was one day 
dining in Paris at the house of one of the staunchest 
of the Orleanists, who had never set eyes on his 
guest before, and was quite ignorant of what his 
descent might be. "Do you see," he said to his 
wife, '"the extraordinary likeness to the Due d'Aumale ? 
Mais e'est frappant ! " "Ah well," she replied, "it 
is not surprising. His grandmother was a daughter 
of Pamela FitzGerald." 


lady edward's critics 

" Quoi qu'il en soit," the question of Lady Edward's 
parentage is, after all, only a matter of speculative 
and secondary interest. It is far more important to 
her numerous descendants and others who revere her 
memory that their respect for her character should 
be left undisturbed. This, unfortunately, has not 
been the case. " The impertinent, unjust and pre- 
judiced people," who, according to Lady Sarah 
Napier, "tried to blacken her character" during her 
lifetime, — prompted, as Lady Sophia held, by their 
envy, " to fabricate whatever they thought most 
ill-natured," — have not lacked imitators in our own 
time. These later critics have, of course, been in- 
fluenced by no personal feelings. They have written 
according to their lights, and from an honest desire 
to give a true picture of the facts, but with prejudice, 
for they have unconsciously allowed their views of 
her life as a whole to be more or less coloured by 
their disapproval of her second marriage. Starting 
with this preliminary objection in their minds, they 
have examined what little is known of her subsequent 
career, and decided that the mystery in which it is 
involved is a proof that it was unworthy. Far from 


Lady Edward's Critics 


rejecting all that is not evidence, they have then 
proceeded to make vague charges against her, with- 
out, so far as can be seen, in any single instance 
attempting to give specific proof of the truth of their 

With the subject of the Pitcairn marriage and 
the effect which it had on the attitude of Lord 
Edward's family towards his wife, I have already 
dealt. The letters from which I have quoted abun- 
dantly prove that, although the FitzGeralds naturally 
lost much of their interest in her after her second 
marriage, they yet regarded it, on the whole, as an 
eminently sensible step. The attempt to deduce 
from it the conclusion that she not only had for- 
gotten her love for Lord Edward, but had never 
really loved him as he deserved, is as absurd as it 
is unkind. After all, Lady Edward is not the only 
woman who has committed the enormity of marry- 
ing a second time. 

One writer in particular has recently busied 
herself in trying to prove that she was a very 
different person from the tender, loyal, womanly 
woman that she really was. Doubtless this lady has 
written as she has from a sincere conviction that 
what she says, or rather hints, is true, and that it 
was right, in the interests of truth and morality, to 
paint Lady Edward in her true colours, as a vain, 
untruthful, frivolous, and occasionally selfish woman. 
The general tone of the letters will serve, I hope, to 
dispel that impression once for all. But since the 
book in question practically sums up all that has 
been, or can be said against Lady Edward, I should 

224 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

like to examine some of its random insinuations, 
which mar, as it seems to me, the truth and value 
of an otherwise interesting work. 

Its author, Miss Ida Taylor, scarcely ever men- 
tions Pamela's name without trying to find fault 
with her in some way or other. The first instance 
which I shall take refers to the perennial question 
of her origin. Lady Edward used to tell a story 
relating to her introduction to the Orleans household, 
which those who hold to the theory that she was 
the Duke's daughter have always quoted as a piece 
of evidence which strikingly confirms the truth of 
their belief. She remembered, she said, quite well 
being received by the Duke himself, on her arrival 
from England. He was waiting for her at a side 
door of the palace, and when she came, took her 
gently in his arms and carried her to the apartments 
of Mme. de Genlis. There he placed her on a sofa 
between himself and the lady who was henceforth 
to be her guardian, with the words, "Voila notre 
petit bijou." Whereupon they both embraced her 
with tears. Miss Taylor, who is strongly of the 
opinion that Pamela was the child of Mary Simms, 
will have none of this "petit bijou" story. 
" Whether implicit confidence is to be placed in 
Pamela's reminiscences," she writes, " may be ques- 
tioned. She was one of those women to whom it 
is natural to view themselves in the light of a 
heroine, and circumstances fostered the disposition." 
That is to say, she tacitly accuses Lady Edward of 
having invented it for her own glorification, whereas 
it has been seen that whatever her secret convictions 

Lady Edward's Critics 


on the subject of her birth may have been, she was 
assuredly not given to boasting of the supposed 

Over and over again, throughout the book, the 
same carping spirit is apparent. An innocent remark 
of Mme. de Genlis about the " angelical Pamela," 
gives occasion for the gibe that " she was an angel, 
by the way, cast in a very terrestrial mould." 
Similarly, the same lady's pious expression of belief 
that Pamela's marriage was made in heaven, is 
quoted for the purpose of adding that, " whether 
the direct interposition of Heaven in the matter of 
the marriage was equally patent to Lord Edward's 
relations, may, it is true, be questioned. One may 
permit oneself a doubt whether, by birth, training, 
or possibly disposition, Madame de Genlis' adopted 
daughter would have been precisely the wife that 
the Duchess of Leinster would have desired to see 
bestowed upon her son. . . . Noblesse," however, 
"oblige. Whatever may have been her secret 
sentiments as to her son's choice, his mother would 
seem to have kept them to herself, and not to have 
taken the world into her confidence. But the 
situation must have been a difficult one for all 
parties ; though, during Lord Edward's lifetime at 
least, those concerned seem to have come well out 
of it." 

There is a good deal more in the same strain on 
the subject of the marriage, and the light in which 
it was regarded by the FitzGeralds, all of which is 
shown by their expressed statements to be quite 
foreign to the truth. After a passing hit at " a 
T 5 

226 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

little fair-weather sailor like Pamela," the author 
goes on to remark that " men marry for different 
reasons. If it may be doubted whether Lord 
Edward had gained, in his wife, a comrade for the 
more serious business of life, he had at least acquired 
a charming playmate for its lighter hours." There 
was, however, it is reassuring to learn, " no evidence 
that he saw cause to repent the hazardous experi- 
ment." Cause to repent ! If ever a man loved and 
was loved by his wife, and tasted some of the highest 
delights that the married state has to offer, that man 
was Lord Edward FitzGerald. 

In another place she is described as a fair-weather 
pleasure-boat. When "the period during which 
Pamela's fair-weather pleasure-boat was linked to 
Lord Edward's doomed vessel" was coming to a 
close, "she seems scarcely to have hesitated to 
comply with the orders of the Privy Council that 
she should quit the country." "To Ireland, Lord 
Edward dead, there was nothing to bind her — 
nothing, that is, save a grave and a memory, and to 
such women as Pamela those links do not suffice. 
With the FitzGeralds she can have had little in 

That, again, is hardly the impression gained from 
a perusal of the family correspondence ; while, as for 
the implied charge that she showed heartlessness 
in leaving Ireland while her husband was lying 
wounded in Newgate, it is to be remarked, first, 
that till almost the day before his death, none of 
the family had any idea that his wound was likely 
to prove fatal ; and, secondly, that she had absolutely 

Lady Edward's Critics 


no choice but to obey the Privy Council order. She 
was told to go, and she had to go ; and it was the 
opinion of Lord Edward's relations at the time that 
any attempt on her part to evade the order would 
have still further incensed the Government against 
her husband, and seriously lessened his chances of 
an acquittal in the trial which was fated never to 
take place. 

But nothing that poor Lady Edward did, either 
before or after her husband's death, finds favour in 
the eyes of her exacting critic. " Lord Edward 
discarded," we are told, " in honour of the principles 
of the Kevolution, every symptom of superiority in 
point of dress ; and even went so far as to take his 
wife, however wet and muddy the weather, through 
the streets on foot, rather than indulge in the luxury 
of a carriage. Whether or not Pamela altogether 
approved of this object-lesson in equality does not 
transpire ; one would, however, imagine that the 
method of propitiating public sentiment to which 
Madame de Genlis had had recourse in sending her 
beautiful foster-daughter to drive through Paris with 
the popular Orleans liveries, would have been more 
to her taste." 

At the risk of wearying the reader by repeating 
these entirely gratuitous assumptions, let me draw 
attention to one or two other of this same writer s 
criticisms. In the early days of his marriage Lord 
Edward once wrote to the Duchess asking her to love 
Pamela, " for she wants to be loved." " There is no 
doubt," says the commentator, emboldened for once 
to drop the tentative nature of the phraseology by 

228 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

which her surmises are generally perforce introduced, 
— " there is no doubt that Pamela did want to be 
loved. It was a want she felt all her life, and which, 
it may be added, she seems to have taken every 
means in her power — and they were not few — to 
satisfy. . . . Her exaggerated desire to please lasted 
even to old age . . . and when nearer fifty than 
forty she danced at a ball robed in white muslin 
and garlanded with roses." " There is little in what 
is known of the remaining thirty years of her life 
upon which it is worth while to dwell, yet to the 
very end one faculty she retained, — the faculty of 
making herself loved." When the end came 
" thirty-three years lay between her and those far-off 
days when she had been Lord Edward's wife. Did 
the recollection of that time, one wonders, come back 
to her as she lay dying, like a half-forgotten dream ? 
Did she remember, too, the little daughter who had 
been the companion of her wanderings, till reclaimed, 
at twelve years old, from her mothers care ? Nothing 
remains to show." "In 1880 her remains were 
transferred to England. One fancies that, had 
circumstances admitted of her being consulted, 
Pamela would have preferred to rest in Paris." 

There is a delightful touch of unconscious 
humour in this last remark. The writer crowns 
her efforts to disinter Lady Edward's memory for 
the purpose of casting suspicion upon it, by implying 
that the removal of her body to England was the 
work of meddlesome busybodies. One fancies, if I 
may venture to imitate her speculative style of 
diction, that had circumstances permitted of her 

Lady Edward's Critics 


being consulted, Pamela would have preferred of the 
two alternatives that her memory should have been 
left undisturbed. As for her mortal remains, they 
were discovered in Montmartre Cemetery by Mr. 
J. P. Leonard, some twenty-five years ago, when 
they were on the point of being thrown into the 
fosse commune. To save them from this fate it was 
at first suggested that a public subscription should 
be raised in Ireland for the purpose of conveying 
them elsewhere. But her relations naturally pre- 
ferred to undertake the matter themselves, and 
brought her to the churchyard at Thames Ditton, 
where she lies surrounded by the graves of several 
of her descendants, close to the two houses which 
were the homes of Lord Henry and Lady Sophia 
FitzGerald, in one of which her own descendants are 
living at the present day. Above her is the stone, 
broken by a Prussian shell in the siege of 1870, 
which was placed over her grave by the Due de la 
Force, "Son ami le plus devoue, L.L." 

In the hope that there she may be allowed hence- 
forth to rest in peace, I have quoted these passages 
from the writings of her latest biographer. For I 
think it is fairly obvious that taken one by one they 
can be so easily refuted, that no one who cares for 
Lady Edward's memory need, on the strength of 
them, have any anxiety for her fair fame. If no more 
definite or damaging charges than these can be made 
against her, the campaign of innuendo and calumny 
from which she has so often suffered, may be con- 
sidered to be at an end. 



It remains still to consider the aspersions, discreetly 
veiled in more or less obscure hints, which some 
writers have cast upon the closing years of her life. 
The nearest approach to a direct accusation is that 
in her last illness, after an interview with a priest of 
the Roman Church, she declined to receive the Due 
de la Force (the same man, let me repeat, who after- 
wards described himself upon her tombstone as " son 
ami le plus devoue ") ; and that she desired him to 
leave the hotel in which they were both staying. 
But it is surely unnecessary to place a serious inter- 
pretation upon this action (supposing the story to be 
exactly true), even though it may have been the 
result of her last confession. The idea that her life, 
subsequently to her departure from Hamburgh, 
called for censure for reasons of this nature, does not 
fit in with the tone of the letters which from time to 
time she received from her two daughters. Both 
Lady Campbell and Mrs. Lyon always spoke of her 
in terms of the deepest affection and respect, and to 
the day of their death they never wavered in their 
allegiance to their beloved and loving mother. In 
her own later letters, the one dominating note is her 

Lady Edward and her Daughters 231 

unceasing devotion to her children and to the memory 
of her lost husband. Also it is worthy of notice that 
Lady Sophia FitzGerald, with whom the two girls 
made their home, kept up her friendship with her to 
the end, even after Pamela had, as we have been 
told, been "reclaimed" from her. As a matter of 
fact Pamela was not " reclaimed." By her own act, 
though sorely against her will, she sent her to her 
father's relations in England, when she was about 
fourteen years old, in order that she might have the 
benefit of a better education than she herself could 
give her, — that, at all events, is what Lady Campbell 
told her own children in after years. 

Extravagant she may have been, though, poor 
thing, her income was always extremely limited ; at 
all events her debts had to be paid more than once, 
and she died practically penniless. She was fond of 
admiration, or, as she herself was never tired of 
saying, of feeling that she was loved ; but of any 
more serious indiscretion than these, there is, as far 
as I can see, a complete absence of direct or even 
indirect evidence. 

On leaving Hamburgh she went, accompanied by 
her daughter Pamela, to Vienna, where they spent a 
year living in a pension kept by a retired wool 
merchant. When the municipal authorities of that 
town came to terms with Napoleon she obtained his 
leave to settle in France, and made her home at 
Montaubon in Chambord, a house belonging to the 
Due de la Force, close to the chateau where he lived 
with his mother. " For many years," says her friend 
and relative Mme. Ducrest, " she occupied a pretty, 

232 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

small country house near Montaubon, and spread 
innumerable benefits around her. Her name will be 
held in grateful remembrance in the cottages of her 
poorer neighbours. People of fashion will remember, 
perhaps, the fascinations of the beautiful Lady Fitz- 
Gerald ; the poor will never forget the kind and 
generous acts of Pamela." It was to this house that 
most of her daughters' letters were addressed. One 
of these — from Mrs. Lyon — may be quoted in full, to 
show the kind of relations that existed between 
mother and daughter. 

" Thames Ditton, le 10 de Decbre. 1821. 

" Ma Mere, — Quel bonheur de pouvoir enfiii 
m'entretenir avec vous en Francois — Je ne parle que 
cette langue depuis le matin jusqu'au soir parce que 
la jeune personne dont je vous ai deja parlee est ici 
depuis deux jours ; elle doit passer six semaines pres 
de moi et je vous assure que je ne pense qua bien 
employer ce terns. Vraiment je crois, que sous peu 
je reverai meme en Francois, tant je suis occupee de 
l'idee de la bien savoir avant d'aller en France. 
Tout, vous voyez, se rapporte a l'esperance de vous 
revoir, et je vous assure qu'il me semble quelle soit 
a present tout le but de mon existence. Nos projets 
sont toujours les memes. Ma Tante et moi nous 
esperons partir pour Paris dans les premiers jours de 
Mars, et je crois que ma sceur, Sir Guy et leurs 
cheres enfants nous suivront bientot, ainsi j'espere 
de vous trouver etablie a Paris et je compte sur le 
bonheur d'y jouir des delices de votre soci^te — 

Lady Edward and her Daughters 233 

jusqu'a ce que vous partiez pour la Ville d'Eu pour 
vous retrouver dans les bras de notre adoree Pamela. 
Maman, je crois que vos filles mourront de joie en 
se retrouvant pres de vous. 

J'aurais tant d'impatience sur la route, si je 
savois que vous etiez a Paris pendant notre voyage, 
que je serai tentee de courir pendant toute la route. 
Que les pauvres postilions et les chevaux me paroi- 
tront lents ! Votre derniere lettre du 20 de Novbre. 
nous a fait un plaisir inexprimable parceque nous 
apprenons que les notres vous sont enfin parvenues. 
— Pamela se porte parfaitement bien, et la petite 
grandit a vue d'ceil, comme elle a deja de l'esprit ; 
je nai jamais vu une enfant d'une physionomie aussi 
spirituelle, Elle fait des petits cris de joie quand on 
lui parle et quand on lui sourit, elle tend ses petits 
bas ; elle a tant l'expression de ma sceur avec son 
nez, sa bouche, et ses paupieres, mais elle a des yeux 
blues, ce qui lui fait ressembler a, mon frere d'une 
maniere si frappante que tout le monde le remarque. 
Quand elle rit, vraiment c'est lui meme. Sir Guy 
aime cette enfant d'une force tout a fait touchante : 
il passe des heures entieres a la caresser et a jouer 
avec elle, et elle de son cote n'est jamais aussi con- 
tente qu'avec son pere. Comme elle est gentille et 
comme vous l'aimeriez. Si jamais je vous vois avec 
Pamela d'un cote, moi de l'autre, et la petite sur 
votre sein, je me trouverai presque comme cette 
Dame qui etoit si amoureuse de son mari et si 
heureuse avec lui, que Madame de Stael lui disoit 
' Madame, il n'y a pas de ciel pour vous.' 

Ma soeur et Sir Guy se plaisent beaucoup dans 

234 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

leur ferme a Molesey qui est tres jolie et fort agre- 
able ; je les vois tous les jours quand le terns nous le 
permet, et comme Pamela a recouvre toutes ses 
forces, elle peut faire de bonnes promenades. Nous 
avons eu un terns superbe, justement le meme que 
vous m'avez decrit ; les merles chantoient, et les 
roses fleurissoient, mais aujourd'hui nous avons eu un 
orage. — II faut que je vous quitte quoiqu'avec regret. 
Je crains que le papier ne puisse en contenir davan- 
tage. Adieu, ma bien aimee Mere ; que Dieu vous 
benisse, c'est toujours la Priere la plus ardente de 
votre AfTectionnee, Attachee et Devouee Fille, 

Lucie Louise FitzGerald." 

"Ma Tante vous embrasse; elle se porte bien. 
J'espere recevoir de vous nouvelles de Paris avant 
que de commencer notre voyage. Dites mille choses 
aimables de ma part a Madame de Genlis et assurez 
la aussi que je n'aurai pas le chagrin de faire le 
sacrifice de ne pas la voir puisque je vais a Paris ! ! 
Adieu encore une fois ma tres chere ; que je suis 
contente de savoir tout ce que vous faites." 

There are other letters of this period, all written 
in the same strain, all breathing the same spirit 
of love and devotion. " Quand est-ce que je me 
trouverai sur votre sein maternel ? Que vous etes 
belle ! Que vous etes toute ce que j'aime ! " " Pam 
et moi nous amusons bien ensemble et toujours en 
regrettant votre soci£te\ Jamais trois personnes ne 
se conviendront mieux que nous trois, avouez ! et 
j'aime a penser que nous gouterons cette bonheur 
quelque jour pour long terns — peut etre je vous verai 

Lady Edward and her Daughters 235 

dans cette jolie petite demeure. Adieu, cher Ange, 
dans tous les instants de ma vie votre tres affectionee 
et devouee Enfant Lucie. La famille ici vous em- 
brasse tendrement." " My own little school-room 
is in great order and beauty, and I am writing to 
you in it and as usual always thinking of you and 
wishing for you. I got your dear dear letter of 
the day we met. I thought you would think of me 
as much as I thought of you. I thought of our 
parting that miserable evening. Heaven grant we 
may meet before another year, but you know near 
or absent nothing can be stronger than my love 
for you. I saw dear Aunt Lucy at Thames Ditton. 
Oh ! how we talked of you, my mother. She knows 
how I love you." 

These few extracts — the last of which might have 
been written by Lord Edward himself, so strongly 
does it recall the tone and the very expressions of 
his letters to his mother — show clearly that Mrs. 
Lyon saw no cause to waver in her affection for 
Lady Edward. Nor is it easy to find in the letters 
which Lady Edward wrote to Lady Campbell, any 
evidence that she was in any way unworthy of the 
love which her daughters gave her. Here are one 
or two, written in 1811, at a time when she was in 
great distress, and was forced to hide from her 

"Ma bien Aimee," she writes, " J'ai recue ta 
charmante lettre : ecris moi bien Eegulierement, 
prends courage : vois cette pauvre Dean, qui me 
dechire le cceur; du moins nous avons nos amis 
pour nous consoler mais elle n'a que nous, pauvre 

236 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

fille. Eh bien, je ne te verai que lorsque les 
Creanciers seront un peu Apaises, puisque tu crains 
que cela ne me fasse decouvrir, ainsi j'attendrai 
que tu me fasse dire quelque chose, toi qui est 
plus apporte d'entendre des Nouvelles. Je me 
promene le soir, et suis comme un pauvre hibou ; 
j'ai des Cloches aux pieds ; tu sais qu'il y a si 
longtemps que je ne m'etois promene. Je voudrois 
bien que tu puisse Ravoir mes chenilles, alors je 
pourois travailler et vendre des Ouvrages ; ce qui 
soulageroit ma mere, 1 a qui je coute quelques Petites 
depenses de plus ! Tu sais que j'ai du courage pour 
ce qui me Eegarde, mais j'avoue que mon coeur 
se brise lorsque je pense a toi ! que j'idolatre, a 
Miss Dean, et a nos fldelles domestiques. Enfin, 
mon enfant, que ce t'y soit une lecon pour toi ! que 
l'economie et de savoir moderer les desires selon 
moyens est le seul bien reste dans ce monde, et le 
seul bonheur est dans La Raison, La Vertu, et la 
Prudence ! Je ne vois que ma mere 1 — je n'ai point 
d'expressions pour Peindre a ma sceur toute ma 
Reconnoissance. Embrasse Rosamonde pour moi, 

et les jolis petits pieds de la Petite P ; j'espere 

que ma pauvre soeur est mieux. Adieu, mon ange. 
Tache de t'occuper avec Rosamonde, lis de l'Anglois, 
cultive ton esprit. Le malheur fortifie ton ame. 

P.S. — Ma tete est mieux, mais les nuits sont 
tristes, je lis tant depuis jeudi que mes yeux me 
font mal ! Car je n'ai que cela pour me distraire." 

1 It is difficult to see that this can refer to anyone but Mine, de 
Genlis, although, as has been already remarked, that does not neces- 
sarily prove the relationship. 

Lady Edward FitzGerald. 

From a miniature. 

Lady Edward and her Daughters 237 

"They brought me your two loving letters of 
yesterday. They are charming : they affected me, 
amused me, made me laugh. Oh ! my child, 
what sweet moments you make me pass. How I 
love your spirit, how I cherish your beautiful soul, 
for you are worthy of all the tenderness which I feel 
for you. Yes, Pamela, my sweet Pam is all mine. 
I have the little ring on my finger, on my left hand 
side, the side of my heart, near the announcement 
of your beloved Fathers marriage. My child, this 
cruel separation makes me regret all the moments 
when I could have seen you and kept you from me. 
I must take patience and forgive the bad people who 
torture me, and pray God to help us. 

I pray you to have courage and patience. My 
health has been better the last two days. I slept 
better last night ; I am taking care of myself. If I 
could only see you sometimes I could easily endure 
my profound loneliness, only I have a pain in my 
eyes from reading. I am very glad my sister has 
had the kindness to give you a hat : thank her for 
me. we can never love too much that dear good 
friend ; embrace her tenderly for me. Farewell, my 
beloved child. I embrace you with all the power of 
my heart." 

"Mai 18, 1811. — It is five o'clock, my beloved : 
so I must once more give up for to-day the hope of 
seeing you and giving you my blessing. Eeceive 
it then from afar, and all the wishes I have for 
your happiness. How sad it is not to have met for 

238 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

so long ; how sad not to have embraced to-day. Oh, 
my friend, I am sure you are as sad as your mother- 

"As sad as your mother-friend." That, as far 
as Lady Edward is concerned, is the conclusion of 
the matter. Almost every letter that she wrote, 
almost every reference to her in the letters of others, 
touches that note of sadness. The tragedy of Lord 
Edward's death finds its complement, more, its 
completion, in the tragedy of his wife's life. The 
others who loved him, his brothers and sisters, 
even Lady Lucy, even his mother, though they 
never forgot his loss, yet found consolation in the 
soothing effects of time and in new and changed 
interests. But her life was sad to the last. Without 
doubt her marriage to Mr. Pitcairn was dictated 
solely by what Lady Sarah called " the false French 
idea qvJil faut en etat, an etablissement" That idea 
was very soon dissipated by the separation which 
took place between them — Mr. Pitcairn, I may say, 
and not Lady Edward, being the offending party, 
although, as a Roman Catholic, she was not able to 
sue for a divorce. Once more she was left to face 
the world alone, estranged after a few years from 
her mother, and with not one of her children to 
share her solitude. While Lord Edward lived, she 
was loved and honoured only less than himself by 
every one of his adoring family. After his death — 
well, at all events, she loved him to the end, and 
never regained her natural happiness. If the reader 
has learnt to love these FitzGeralds as well as to 

Lady Edward and her Daughters 239 

grieve for their unhappiness, I do not think that the 
lowest place in his affections will be given to that 
tender wife and mother, on whom the storms of 
adversity beat so fiercely and so long. :i She was 
better after all than most of her accusers/' said Lady 
Lucy in a letter already quoted. " She is gone to 
a place where the truth of hearts is revealed, and 
where all deceit is for ever swept away." Requiescat 
in pace. 


The following is the statement made by Lady 
Campbell, to which reference was made on p. 219. 

" As to my mother's parentage, she never knew 
more of it than what Mde. de G. told her, that, to 
carry out her system of acquiring languages, she 
wished to have an English child to be brought up 
with the Orleans children, and that the Duke of 
Orleans commissioned a gentleman who transacted 
his affairs in London to look out for a child whose 
parents were not likely to interfere with her future 
education. That this Gentleman found a Mrs. 
Symes who was willing to agree to the terms. She 
was the wife of a Capt. Symes who had married her 
against the wishes of his Family because she was 
a catholic ; her husband was in the West Indies 
where she wanted to join him, and she would give 
up the child on condition of its being brought up 
a Roman Catholic. — The late Lord Arran and 
George iv. both contended that my Mother was 
Anne Symes. Lord Arran asserted that he had 
seen a letter from the above named agent to the 
Duke of Orleans (Egalite), with whom he lived in 
intimacy at one time, saying, ' Monseigneur, je vous 
1 6 

242 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

enverrai, sous peu, La plus jolie petite fille, et la plus 
belle Jument, qui se puisse trouver en Angleterre.' 

George iv.'s argument was that Mde. de Genlis 
was much too old to be Lady Edward's mother, 1 
that he knew her age, &c. 

My mother told me Mde. de Genlis never had 
given her the least reason to think she was her 
daughter; that certainly there was an act of 
adoption of her by the Duke of Orleans and Mde. 
de G., but that was, she was told, to secure some 
small settlement of twelve hundred francs upon her, 
yet it was a curious form. At the time of my 
Mother's marriage at Tournay, just as Mde. de 
G. was emigrating, there were letters passing between 
the Duke of 0. and Mde. de G. about some settle- 
ments, and in general my Mother had read them by 
Mde. de G.'s leave, excepting on one occasion when 
Mde. de G. put her hand on the letter and said, ' Ne 
lisez pas cela ' ; that was the only appearance of 
mystery she ever observed, and that was very 

I was once present at a sharp tiff between my 
mother and Mde. de G. They were both quick- 
tempered, and Mde. de G. said, 

' Si vous vous vantez d'etre ma fille, vous ne l'etes 
assurement pas.' 

'Si je la suis,' replied my Mother, ' il n'y a pas 
de quoi se vanter ! ' 

At the time of the troubles in '98, when Mama 
was at Goodwood, and all the family were absorbed 
in their sorrows, one of my Aunts told me, a Mr. 

1 This seems not to have been the case. 



Symes called in Harley Street to enquire after Lady 
Edward, as from his knowing her family he should 
be happy to be of any service to her should she 
require it, — but his card was lost, my Mother was 
allowed to go to Hamburgh, and nobody cared more 
about her. 

This is all on the Symes side of the question. 

Mde. de G. had a mania for adoptions ; when 
she was a poor emigree, writing for her bread, she 
adopted the son of a tailor at whose house she lived, 
and brought him home to France, taught him the 
Harp ; he became a famous Harpist, equal to Bochsa ; 
he obtained wonderful power over her in her old 
age, much to the annoyance of her own Family. I 
think she was led to this adoption by the wish to 
convert the child. This Prussian Casimir was a 
Lutheran till she brought him to France and had 
him baptized. When I knew her at the Arsenal, 
where Napoleon had given her an apartment and 
a pension of 6000 Francs, she had adopted another 
boy and was educating him as well as Casimir ; he 
was a heavy stupid looking clod, and I never heard 
what became of him. She liked the society of 
children : they never wearied her, and most charm- 
ing she was to children, she thoroughly under- 
stood them. I used to go to the Arsenal at 9 in 
the morning and stay with her all day for weeks 
together, and never was more happy or delighted ; 
she must have been far past 70. She studied, read, 
painted miniature flowers on parchment, kept up 
English, Italian, Spanish, by reading a page of each 
every day, often more but never less, wrote her 

244 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

novels, made extracts of everything she read. I 
never met so industrious a woman besides her 
genius, and she had the art of making one love 
work. She netted, embroidered, made baskets, 
always at something, wonderfully abstemious, almost 
starving herself, not from religious motives, but 
health, living on Herb soups and Sorel and roots, 
scarcely any meat ; and Ptisans, a horrid drink she 
always had at dinner, L'eau de Patience, excessively 
bitter, I believe it was a decoction of Columba root. 
This she said helped digestion. Her room was full 
of little tables covered with souvenirs and miniatures 
and albums and all sorts of little trumpery things 
and busts, and over these she threw net and lace 
veils to keep them from dust. She had all sorts of 
snuff-boxes and curiosities, and a coral chaplet or 
praying Beads, which had been blessed and given 
her by the Pope when he was in Paris ; she had 
had an interview with him, and he had thanked 
her for having defended religion and written against 

She was tall, very thin and stooped, very bright 
chocolate eyes, a sallow dirty looking skin, very 
animated when she talked, but it was a severe 
looking face, and when angry hard and fierce. Full 
of fun and in conversation so natural and agree- 
able, not a shade or expression of Pedantry, you 
would never imagine she had ever read a book, 
much less written one ; all her bright clever things 
were said in the easiest simple language. To hear 
her and old Talleyrand talk for two or three hours 
together when he drove out to see her once or twice 



a month was even to my young ears the Perfection 
of high-bred conversation : not the least 'pretention 
on either side, of the Authoress, or the Diplomate, 
so refined, so cutting, so natural and so full of 
real fun ! His description of the Empire Parvenus, 
and the Imperial Court ! and her remarks on the 
new manners and customs of Paris since the revolu- 
tion were too amusing. It always struck me he 
came out to the Arsenal (a long way) to have a 
crack with her to refresh himself. Then when they 
both got upon the old regime they were just as 
amusing in their remembrances. ' Vous rappelez 
vous ' used to bring forth such souvenirs ! sad and 
droll, they both regretted the pleasant past. She 
saw very few people indeed, and by appointment or 
some private introduction. She detested mere 
visiting, her time was too precious : she used to 
write her books at night, not going to bed till one 
or two in the morning. 

One evening that I spent with her she received 
a very curious visit. 

The Imperial Napoleon family took an interest 
in her. Caroline Queen of Naples and the Queen of 
Spain, Joseph's wife, wrote to her often and visited 
her, but on this day she received a note from the 
Queen of Spain's sister, Princesse de Pontecorvo, 
who had married Bernadotte, saying she was coming 
that evening with Prince Pontecorvo to bid her 
farewell, as he had been appointed Heir to the 
Kingdom of Sweden and that Helas \ they started 
for Stockholm the next day. 

At about nine o'clock they arrived, — He. a 

246 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

handsome, very dark, southern looking man, coal- 
black crisp hair, piercing black small eyes, very 
high hook nose and small very white teeth, rather 
a look of a chevalier d'industrie, speaking Gascon 
French, pleasant French manner ; Madame de Ponte- 
corvo, a little huddled-up bundle of a woman, very 
dowdy, bad teeth, with sandy, terrier, rough-looking 
curls round her face, a cap with roses, a shawl on, 
most unattractive. 

She did nothing but lament and groan over her 
hard Fate in having to quit Paris ! they brought a 
fine tall handsome boy Oscar who had nice manners, 
no shyness, and not cockey (the present King of 

As Bernadotte, who was talking to my Mother, 
at last overheard his wife bemoaning herself to Mde. 
cle Genlis how terrible it was to be buried in Sweden, 
&c. &c. et csetera, he stopped her short. ' Allons, 
allons, il n'y a pas de quoi se plaindre, quand on 
vous offre un Eoyaume ! ! II faut tacher de vous 
consoler,' he said laughing ; he had no affectation 
about it, but showed honestly as happy as a King ! 
at his elevation, and expatiated on Napoleon's 
gracious manner of allowing him to accept the 
crown, knowing, he said, ' qu'il aurait toujours le 
cceur frangais.' 

In this instance, as in his brother Joseph's in 
Spain, Eugene Beauharnais' in Italy, Louis' in 
Holland, and Murat's in Naples, Napoleon was mis- 
taken. To their credit they, like Macbeth, had not 
the illness that should attend ambition ; the interest 
and sufferings of the conquered countries were too 



mighty for the cceur Francais to prevail. Bernadotte 
seemed devoted to the Emperor. Some allusion was 
made to Ireland whilst he was talking to my Mother 
when he said She was perhaps not aware that he had 
in some degree unfavourably influenced her destiny. 
That he had been appointed to command the expedi- 
tion in aid of the United Irishmen sent by the French 
Republic, but that he evaded it, as he was then much 
occupied (either at Bordeaux or Lyons, I forget 
which) : ' Enfln, il faut le dire, Amoureux fan de 
ma Femme la ! ' added he, pointing to the little 
ill-favoured woman, - mais amoureux fou ! On 
nomma Hoche ' (I think he said), ' L'expedition 
traina (dawdled), manqua, et voila, peut-etre aurais-je 
mieux fait ! ' This love passage was most amusing. 
The next day they started for Sweden. That was 
in 1809, I think." 

Apropos of Lady Campbell's picture of Me. de 
Genlis, the following letter is of some interest : 

Me. de Genlis to Miss Pamela FitzGerald. 

"Dtcembre, 1812. 

" Ma chere Paruy, je veux vous remercier de ne pas 
m'oublier, je le merite pour la vive affection que j'ai pour 
vous. Je suis heureuse de savoir toute les bont^s que votre 
respectable et charmante grandmere a pour vous et votre 
attachement pour elle. Le plus grand bonheur de cette vie 
est d'aimer ce que doit aimer. Je suis bien aise que vous 
n'oublie' pas rallemand, c'ette une belle langue, et la 
difficulty de l'apprendre doit y attacher. Mais chere Pamy, 
ne compare jamais cette litterature a la votre et a la 
literature francaise, si vous l'aimies beaucoup elle vous 

248 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

gaterait le gout, il y a de tres grandes beautes dans plusieurs 
de leurs ouvrages, il n'ont pas un seul bon ouvrage. lis 
sont imitations des anglais, sans avoir ce gout vrai de nature 
que se trouve meme en general dans les auteurs anglais de 
2 d ordre, et que possedent eminemment les grands auteurs 
de votre nation. II y a je ne sais quoi d'affecte et de fade 
dans les ouvrages de sentiment en allemand, qui en rende la 
lecteur insipide, et en outre de galimathias inexplicables, 
d'ailleurs cette litterateur est toute neuve, ne nous lions qu'a 
celles que le terns a consacre\ la franchise, l'anglaise, et 

Yotre tendre et excellente mere jouit d'une bonne sante, 
parcequ'il n'y a rien de raisonnable et de regie comme sa 
vie. Elle est engraissee, blanchie, rajeunie, et jolie comme 
un ange: depuis votre depart elle vit dans une profonde 
retraite, cultive son esprit et ses talens, elle peint et grave 
comme un ange, se couche a 10 heures, se leve matin, fait 
beaucoup d'exercise, et toutes sortes de collections instruc- 
tives et charmantes pour sa Pamy. Sa tendresse pour vous, 
si naturelle, est bien touchante. Vous remplissez son coeur, 
sa tete, son imagination. Combien elle est digne d'etre 
aim£e ! il n'y a rien a vous dire la-dessus, c'est surtout pour 
me satisfaire que je vous parle. Adieu mon aimable et 
chere Pamy, je vous envoie mon Moire. On dit qu'il y a 
de l'interet et que je n'ai rien ecrit avec autant de soin, 
d'ailleurs comme je suis sure que vous avez des sentimens 
religieux et fiddles j'espere que vous l'aimeras, je vous 
embrasse du fond de Fame. D. Genus." 

The remainder of Lady Campbell's statement, 
which refers exclusively to Irish affairs, runs as 
follows : 

" I knew very little about my Father : the subject 
was so painful and sorrowful, I know less than a 
comparative stranger. The 4th of June, when the 



guns fired for the King's birthday, was always a 
dark day in the house ; poor Grandmama appeared 
in deeper mourning, and somehow there was a sort 
of stillness ; we spoke with bated breath, and went 
softly, tho' nothing was said to note it ; but it was 
the anniversary of my fathers death. Grandmama 
wore his coloured handkerchief next her heart, and 
it was put into her coffin with her. She once or 
twice spoke of him to me. She told me he had lost 
all hope of success for the last year, that she and my 
mother had both on their knees entreated him to 
give it up and go abroad to go to America, but that 
at last he broke away from them saying it was too 
late. That he had led others into danger and he 
would share it. This happened in the summer-house 
at Frescati. He might to the very last have escaped 
with ease, the government were anxious he should 
do so, — as the Duke of Wellington told me in 1823 
at Strathfieldsaye, they did not know what to do, if 
they had him. They knew where he hid for two 
months before he was taken : some said he was 
discovered by the black servant Tony taking wine 
and chickens to Murphy's, the feather merchant's 
house, where he was concealed when he had the 
ague. I believe Eeynolds was the man who at last 
actually did betray him so publickly that the 
Government were forced to move in it. Many have 
had the credit of it, with what truth I know not, 
even Mr. Ogilvie, not with the intention of forfeiting 
his Life but in the hope of his being banished. My 
Mother firmly thought so, the only strange un- 
accountable circumstance was Mr. Ogilvie having a 

250 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

Pension from Government which was continued to 
his daughter Mrs. Charles Locke. Mrs. Small, a 
French maid of my Mother's, who had married poor 
Tony his black servant, was also suspected. Arthur 
O'Connor was thought not true, a suspicion which 
was strongly revived many years after when I was 
in Ireland, and O'Connor was allowed by Govern- 
ment to come over to look after some of his property 
in the South of Ireland. Lord Morpeth was secretary 
and asked him to dinner, why ? except with a wish 
to see a Man of '98, a live rebel. He did not ask 
me to meet him, nor should I have cared to see him, 
as I had the impression from my Mother and from 
Aunt Sophia that he had not been true to my Father. 
At this time (whilst at Drumcondra) I received an 
anonymous letter, reproaching me with having dined 
with the betrayer of Lord Edward and the cause of 
'98 at the Chief Secretary's. The next day Lord 
Morpeth came to see me and showed me a similar 
letter he had received anonymously expressing sur- 
prise at a high-minded nobleman entertaining the 
betrayer of the lamented Lord Edward ; this occurred 
the week in which Arthur O'Connor's name appeared 
in the papers as having dined at the Lodge. I told 
him I thought it alluded to Arthur O'Connor, as I 
knew he was suspected by most '98 men from his 
having unaccountable money with which he bought 
property in France, where he settled when he was 
let out of prison. He afterwards married Mde. 
Condorcet : when he died a few years ago his widow 
wrote me a very nice note and sent me my Father's 
picture, e highly valued by her late husband.' In 



a printed Memoir of Capt. Byrne, one of the '98 
men, sent to me by his widow (a Frenchwoman, I 
believe), there are suspicions thrown out on the 
honesty of Arthur O'Connor. I questioned Mr. 
Cur ran closely at the time I received the anonymous 
letter (he was son to the famous Curran), and I found 
him very cautious ; : he believed A. O'Connor honest, 
some did not,' so I never got further. 

A Mr. Sproule, who had had connection with J 98 
Politics, remembered often seeing a small pale man 
with remarkable eyes, pockmarked, riding postillion 
to the mail, and being told in a whisper it was Lord 
Edward, who often came to meetings at Sproule's in 
that disguise. Lord Edward was a beautiful rider. 
When at Limerick a gentleman told me he was in 
a country house, a pedlar came, and that in those 
days pedlars were great favourites, so the pedlar 
was shown into the parlour, and all the ladies 
gathered round him ; however, presently the gentle- 
man's attention was drawn to the scene by hearing 
of the wonderful bargains o-oing- ; that he recognised 

COO' o 

my father in the pedlar, and as he knew all these 
were not friends, he went up to him, bought a 
handkerchief, and said, 1 You are selling too cheap, 
you had better be off.' The pedlar took the hint. 

There was a Quaker Mr. Sproule lived in an 
odd ruinous house near the Castle and the old 
Bridge (now gone). When you entered you found 
a garden and a sort of high summer house that 
went by the name of the Lanthorn, and looked over 
the broad Shannon. Mr. Sproule was a chandler, 
reputed to be very rich, some person, an old man, 

252 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

to whom the house belonged having died and left 
him all he possessed and the house over the gate- 
way, of which there was some motto cut in stone 
very old ; the story went there had been some unfair 
play. Mr. Sproule had the reputation of being a 
great miser, and spent nothing on himself. I must 
say he helped us in the workshop and soup-kitchen 
at the time of the famine by his subscription. He 
was known to have been concerned in the rebellion, 
declarations were signed in the Lanthorn, meetings 
were held in his Garden and in Obeime's Brewery 
next to it, and there were numbers of Pikes found 
in that locality, greater number than in almost any 
part of Ireland. It was a place easy of access from 
being on the river, and on the Galway side of the 
old Bridge. Mr. Sproule was a great antiquarian, 
and had for years collected Irish antiquities, and was 
known to give good prices for such things as the 
turf-cutters found in the bogs. Many of the officers 
used to tell us of the beauty of his collection and 
urge our seeing it. At last Col. Hall, the Z. M. 
General, proposed taking me there, and wrote to Mr. 
Sproule to appoint a day, and he received a formal 
answer that Mr. Sproule would feel much honoured. 
We were ushered thro' the old Gateway to a sort 
of Yard and into a grey shabby-looking mansion 
and such a real old Curiosity Shop as would have 
enchanted Dickens. The Hall had a rather ragged 
mat, and all sorts of fossils and stones, bits of 
carving set against the wall, as if they helped to 
keep the mat from flying away, the walls hung with 
poles and staves and bits of rusty armour. 



A very staid old man, grey haired, looking some- 
what like a Quaker, received us at the door of a 
small dusty fusty little parlour with rococo chairs, 
a few books, as if a pawnbroker had furnished it 
with Mrs. Delany's cast furniture, the prevailing hue 
being drab ; it w r as evidently the room the old man 
inhabited. After a little preliminary conversation 
the old man, who had very simple yet courteous 
manners, took us into a sort of long (still dusty and 
fusty) Parlour, which was the Museum ; tables quite 
groaning under antique swords, musquets, Pikes, old 
Pottery, Phoenician brass blades, beads, Large Moose 
deers' Horns, bones, stone cannon balls, some things 
hung on the walls, some lying on the floor and 
under the tables, dust, dust, everywhere. Next we 
went into another frowsty little retiro where there 
were collections of coins, some very good ; some old 
Irish silver ornaments ; after we had duly admired 
and examined (admiring is hard work sometimes and 
tires one's jaws), I saw a most charming little silver 
bottle or Flask with Silver chains and two cherubim s 
heads which Mr. Sproule said was found in a bog ; 
he called it a tear bottle, and as I admired it I said, 

1 Well, Mr. Sproule, this is the prettiest thing 
in all your collection, tho' perhaps not the most 
curious,' when to my horror, shame, and astonish- 
ment, Mr. Sproule turned gravely round and putting 
the flask into my hand requested I would accept of 
it. In great confusion I declined accepting it, de- 
priving him of it, &c, &c, all one says and don't 
say on such occasions, but Mr. Sproule stopped me 
by saying, 

254 Edward and Pamela FitzGerald 

' 1 am under obligations to one of your Family 
that nothing can repay, so you need have no scruple 
at taking this trifle/ and then he told us that he 
was connected with the United Irishmen in '98: that 
one night he was stopping at a small public-house 
on his way home to Athlone, where there were about 
a dozen of rebels, and that there had been a good 
deal of treasonable talk when they suddenly said 
they must put the oath before they parted, for 
safety ; that he being a Quaker refused to swear, — 
tho' he belonged to them refused to swear, — upon 
which they threatened to shoot him, and were load- 
ing two horse-pistols, when Lord Edward who was 
lying down in the back room hearing High words 
came in to see what was going on and found Sproule 
pinioned by three men and two preparing to shoot 
him. He immediately had him released, answered 
for his honesty, said that Quakers took no oaths, 
and saved his life and sent him home. After this 
I certainly willingly accepted the Flask from poor 
old Miser Sproule ! we parted very good friends, I 
asked him to come up to see us, but he never came, 
and we never met again." 


Adelaide (d'Orleans), Madame, 14. 

Bantry Bay, reports of French lauding 
at, 101, 102. 

Berkeley, William, 216. 

Brixey, Guillaume de, 216. 

Campbell, Lady (daughter of Lord 
Edward), her description of Mr. 
Ogilvie, 3, 4 ; her birth, 7 ; descrip- 
tion of Lady Sophia FitzGerald, 8, 9 ; 
refutes calumnies about Lady Ed- 
ward, 96, 219 ; letter to her mother 
on death of Me. de Genlis, 219 ; 
letters from her mother, 236-239 ; 
reminiscences about Me. de Genlis, 
241-247 ; letter from Me. de Genlis, 
247 ; reminiscences about her father, 

Conolly, Mr., 5, 86, 88, 134, 211. 

Conolly, Lady Louisa (aunt to Lord 
Edward),. 4 ; appreciation, 5, 28 ; 
letters to the Duchess of Leinster, 
146; to Mr. Ogilvie, 150; to Lady 
Sarah Napier, 159 ; to Mr. Ogilvie, 
161-164, 165-167 ; to Duke of Rich- 
mond, 185 ; to Duchess of Leinster, 

Cooke, Lady Mary, 36, 37. 

De Genlis, Madame (also de Sillery). 
7, 10, 54, 55, 56, 107, 109, 214, 215, 
218, 219, 241, 242 ; her habits, 243- 
244 ; conversations with Talleyrand, 
244 ; with Bernadotte, 245 ; letter to 
Lady Campbell, 247. 

Due d'Orleans (Egalite), 51, 52, 214, 
215, 218, 224, 241. 

FitzGerald, Lord Charles, 3, 18, 35. 

FitzGerald, Lord Edward, affection for 
Lady Sophia FitzGerald, 8 ; meeting 
with Thomas Moore, 11 ; his charm, 
11 ; letters to his mother, 12, 20 ; 
love for his mother, 17 ; influenced 
by America and France, 18 ; wishes 
to marry Miss Georgina Lennox, 19 ; 
returns from America, 21 ; visits 
Paris, 21 ; attitude towards Rebellion, 
23 ; offered command of expedition 
against Cadiz, 24 ; character, 24, 25 ; 
member for Kildare, 25 ; resigns I 
title in Paris, 25 ; separation from 
his family, 26 ; early days, 29 ; 
visit to Lady Sarah Napier, 33 ; in- 
curs suspicions of Government, 49 ; 
marries Pamela at Tournay, 57 ; 
domestic letters to his mother from 
Dublin and Frescati, 61-78 ; criti- 
cises Lord Lieutenant, 81 ; political 


letters to his mother, 84-88 ; ren- 
dered desperate by recall of Lord 
Fitzwilliam, 93 ; republican ideas, 
96 ; letter to Lady Lucy FitzGerald, 
104 ; joins United Irishmen, and 
opposes Insurrection Act, 106 ; goes 
to Hamburgh, 106 ; to Basle, 107 ; 
letters to his mother, 107-110 ; re- 
turns vid England to Ireland, 109 ; 
lives with Lady Edward, Lady Lucy 
FitzGerald, and Arthur O'Connor, 
110-114, 117-119 ; goes to England, 
119 ; letter to his mother on politics, 
129 ; the green handkerchief inci- 
dent, 135 ; last letter to his mother 
(December 19, 1797), 137; in hid- 
ing, 139-141 ; attitude of Govern- 
ment towards him, 139 ; his arrest, 
142 ; account by Lady Louisa Conolly, 
150, 151 ; account by Nicholas Mur- 
phy, 153-158 ; in Newgate, 152 ; his 
tomb, 159 ; his death, 165-168 ; ac- 
count by Dr. Garnet, 169-180; at- 
tainder, 198. 
FitzGerald, Edward (son of Lord Ed- 
ward), 7 ; made over to his grand- 
mother, 8 ; his birth, 100, 121, 125, 
127, 128, 129, 136. 
FitzGerald, Lady Edward, sadness of 
her life and death, 13 ; the ill-nature 
of Dublin, 52, 53 ; loved by the 
FitzGeralds, 53 ; engagement and 
marriage, 54-58 ; Dublin gossip, 57, 
58 ; early married life, 61-78 ; her 
influence on Lord Edward, 96 ; pre- 
judice against her, 96, 97 ; horror of 
republican ideas, 96 ; not ignorant 
of Lord Edward's designs, 97 ; sad- 
ness of her letters, 98 ; letters, 
99-105; goes to Hamburgh, 106; 
attempts to dissuade Lord Edward, 
107 ; letter to Duchess of Leinster, 
110 ; in Ireland with Lord Edward, 
Lady Lucy FitzGerald, and Arthur 
O'Connor, 110-114, 117-119 ; comes 
to England, 144 ; behaviour after 
Lord Edward's arrest, 146-150 ; or- 
dered to leave the country, 150, 151, 
159 ; at Goodwood, 199 ; letter to 
Lord Henry FitzGerald, 200 ; to the 
Duchess of Leinster, 201 ; goes to 
Hamburgh, 202; letters to Lady 
Lucy FitzGerald, 203-205 ; to Lady 
Sophia FitzGerald about her allow- 
ance, 206-209 ; marries Mr. Pitcairn, 
206 ; Lady Sarah Napier's verdict on 



her second marriage, 211 ; her daugh- 
ter Helen born, 212 ; the Duchess of 
Leinster on her marriage, 213. 

Her parentage, 214 ; Me. de Genlis' 
Fogo story and its reception, 215 ; 
its inconsistencies, 216 ; evidence in 
support of it, 217 ; belief of the Fitz- 
Geralds in her Orleans origin, 218 ; 
evidence of the letters, 218 ; the 
Symes story, 220 ; evidence of resem- 
blance to the Orleans family, 216, 
221 ; her own story, 224. 

Her character: effect of Pitcairn 
marriage on the FitzGeralds, 223 ; 
her character attacked and defended, 
224-229; her reburial at Thames 
Ditton, 229 ; relations with the Due 
de la Force, 230 ; goes to Vienna, 
231 ; to Montaubon, 232 ; letters 
from her daughter Lucy, Mrs. Lyon, 
232-235 ; to her daughter Lady 
Campbell, 236-239 ; quarrel with 
Me. de Genlis, 242. 

FitzGerald, Lord Frederick, 153, 169. 

FitzGerald, Lord Henry, 3, 6, 9, 10; 
early days, 29, 40, 41 ; goes to Ire- 
land after Lord Edward's arrest, 143 ; 
letter to Mr. Ogilvie, 160; to the 
Duchess of Leinster, 201. 

FitzGerald, Lady Lucy (afterwards 
Lady Lucy Foley), character,' 6 ; 
letter to Lady Bute about Lady 
Edward's death and Moore's Life of 
Lord Edward, 13, 14, 26 ; letter to 
Lady Sophia FitzGerald, 35 ; journal, 
40-46 ; appreciation, 42, 43 ; pro- 
posals, 46-48 ; joins Lord Edward in 
Ireland. 110; journal, 110-114, 
117-119; back to England, 119; 
letter to Lady Sophia FitzGerald, 
134 ; journal, 140-145 ; address to 
Irish nation, 183 ; to Thomas Payne, 
184 ; letter from Lady Sarah Napier, 
187-197 ; later relations with Lady 
Edward, 203, 206, 209. 

FitzGerald, Lady Sophia, character, 
6-9; her journal, 28-32, 41, 42, 
54-58 ; at Thames Ditton, 83 ; letters 
to, 130-135, 147, 150, 180, 206, 207 ; 
makes home for Lucy FitzGerald at 
Thames Ditton, 10 ; buried at Thames 
Ditton, 10. 

FitzGerald, Lord Eobert, 3, 22. 

FitzGerald, Lord Walter, 158. 

Fitzwilliam, Lord, 5, 87, 89, 90, 91. 

Forth, Mr., 214, 215, 241. 

Garnet, Dr. , his diary, 169-180. 

Government, faults of, 89-94, 140. 

Hastings, Warren, trial of, 40, 41. 

Leinster, Duke of (brother of Lord 
Edward), 6, 25, 87, 133. 

Leinster, Duchess of (mother of Lord 
Edward), her children, 2 ; character 
and second marriage, 3 ; her letters, 
21, 22 ; love for Lord Edward, 22 ; 
letters from Lord Edward, 61-78, 
83, 84-88 ; to Lady Lucy FitzGerald, 
121-128; from Lord Edward, 128; 
to Lady Sophia FitzGerald about 
green handkerchief, 135 ; to Lady 
Lucy FitzGerald, 136 ; to Lady 
Sophia FitzGerald about Lady Ed- 
ward, 150; from Lady Louisa Conolly, 
197 ; to Lord Henry FitzGerald, 199 ; 
from Duke of Richmond, 200 ; from 
Lady Edward, 201 ; from Lord Henry 
FitzGerald, 201 ; about Pitcairn mar- 
riage, 213. 

Letters, date of (1770-1831), 2. 

Lyon, Mrs. Lucy (daughter of Lord 
Edward), 7 ; letters to Lady Edward, 

M'Corquodale, Mrs., 212. 

Moore, Thomas, 11, 14, 15, 16. 

Napier, Lady Sarah (aunt to Lord Ed- 
ward), 4 ; appreciation, 5 ; visited by 
Lord Edward and Colonel Napier, 33 ; 
letters to Lady Sophia FitzGerald, 
32, 35, 88, 130-132; after arrest of 
Lord Edward, 148 ; after his death, 
180-182 ; to Lady Lucy FitzGerald 
about Ireland and Lady Edward, 
187-197, 210. 

Napier, Colonel (Donny), 5, 33, 148, 206. 

Ogilvie, Mr. (second husband of Duchess 
of Leinster, and Lord Edward's step- 
father), called "Mr. O.," 2 ; arrival at 
Leinster House, 3, 4, 83, 121-123, 
141, 142, 160-165, 203, 204. 

O'Connor, Arthur (Lord Edward's 
"twin -soul"), 15, 104, 108, 111; 
imprisoned, 114 ; letter from prison, 
115-117, 131, 132; second arrest, 
140-142, 251. 

Pakenham, Mrs. , 147, 160. 

Pitcairn, Mr., 206, 209, 213. 

"Quoituor, the Beloved," 103, 106, 

Kichmond, Duke of (uncle to Lord 

Edward), 19, 185, 200. 
Russell, Lord John, on Lord Edward, 


Seymour, Mr., 215, 217. 
Simms, Mrs., 216, 241. 
Strutt, Lady Charlotte, {nee Fitz- 
Gerald), 6, 19, 28,30,32,36,80,132,133. 
Swinton, the Hon. Mrs. James, 221. 
Walpole, Horace, 41, 216. 

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